Sleeping Beauty
by chichirichick
Summary: Maka left 5 years ago, but after an unfortunate accident, she is back in Soul's care in Death City. It's never a question of love, not between the two of them, but it'll be a question of forgiveness.
1. Five Years

I can't understand why I'm writing another MakaxSoul fic, but it's happening. This one feels a lot more angsty though, so be ready for a sad boy Soul.

* * *

Five years ago was the last time I saw Maka.

It was about two years ago that I stopped hearing from her directly, every now and then getting a postcard or a cryptic letter from somewhere out in Europe or Asia. It was never the same place twice. I can't tell you why she stopped but maybe she didn't feel fettered to me anymore. I guess I cried when I realized the letters weren't coming anymore.

I've kept up with her since through second-hand information. Sometimes Kid would let something slip. Most of the time Marie would tell me a tidbit while I was over with her, Stein, and the baby, or what used to be a baby. Now he's a full-grown man at 5 years old, a perfect clone of Stein in every way. Poor Marie.

But I'm getting off-topic because I'm avoiding the reality that has hit me in the face. This time it wasn't letting something slip, it was Kid coming to me, telling me she'd been hurt by some kind of jail-break nonsense that happened when she was trying to use her Soul Perception on some witch for information. She was in some kind of magical coma, they were working on it, but bringing her back here seemed the best idea. Maybe bringing her to me seemed like the best idea.

Again, five years ago was the last time I saw Maka.

Five years ago, after the Kishin, after the celebration, after a few more years at DWMA, we'd started getting into the habit of sleeping in the same bed. The excuses were always the same, too tired, too cold, it's what we do on missions anyway. No matter the excuse it was just sleeping though, sometimes intertwined but always innocent, bodies together in comfort rather than need. She never pushed but I had to one night, that moonlight glow against her half-lidded eyes, that smile just for me, just for these moments spread on her face and wrinkling her nose urging some kind of action.

So as I pulled her into me like I usually did to start our slumber, I leaned my face into hers, capturing her mouth with the intensity built from what felt like a million years of loving her. She let me kiss her like that. She let me undress her. She let me touch her. I wasn't slow, I wasn't patient, I was needy and I took everything I wanted from her. It didn't seem anything like me since we were partners, we always shared the weight, but this want was deep and dark and I let it control me. When I look back at it, I know I didn't give enough, but Maka being Maka let me. But I was ready to learn, I wanted to know how to give it back, but I made a mistake after the fact since words were never my strong suit. I should have just told her I loved her. In a day she was gone.

Mira and Sid were the ones who brought Maka back and in my infinite cowardice, I let them install her in the apartment without me, claiming business at DWMA that anyone could tell you I didn't really have. Yes, I'd been working as a teacher there, but it was nothing I couldn't blow off to see the woman I'd loved for almost half my life. I'd been attempting to tell myself that I wasn't still in love with her, and seeing Maka would just concrete that as fact in my heart.

When Kid finally found me that day he practically dragged me back to the apartment, describing the possibilities the whole way. The theory of the moment was that it was something like a Soul Perception backfire as if the witch had used the tune her soul used to reach out to lock it back in on itself. Obviously, there weren't many models for this, and at this point, it just looked like Maka was in a permanent slumber. A real-life sleeping beauty.

Mira would come as necessary for any lady related issues, but other than that I was expected to take care of her and try to reach her. I'd been her last real long-term partner, so if anyone was going to reach her it was going to be me. I couldn't admit that as soon as I reached out to her I was sure her soul would zap me without hesitation. Kid would realize soon enough, I bet, but at least I'd get to see her and really be able to tell myself I didn't love her. Or at least I'd see her when I quit chickening out.

I hoped that Kid didn't see me holding my breath as we entered the apartment, as I heard sounds coming from a space that was usually devoid of all life. Each step felt like my feet were stuck to the floor but I couldn't let Kid get past me so I urged myself on, pausing only at the threshold before the door, taking a deep breath to keep myself from blacking out before I turned the corner.

It was her hair I noticed first since I had expected it cascading across the pillow but instead it was cut close just behind her ears, dramatically parted to the side as it swept across her forehead. She was absolutely beautiful, even with the rings around her eyes, the loss of her usual rosy glow in her skin. I had to clutch the doorway, my heart threatening to give up, to break or burst. "Maka…" I couldn't help myself and found myself searching for her soul. It was there, like a faint waft of her scent, but it felt distant as if she were still hundreds of miles away.

Kid ignored my stricken behavior and continued into the room, restarted the conversation of Maka's rehabilitation. Her limbs needed to be exercised. Her body needed to be moved and repositioned to prevent bedsores. They hadn't had to resort to a feeding tube since she seemed to still swallow on her own but it was a slow process. To be honest, with the gruel Mira was feeding her I was surprised she'd swallow at all, but I guess nutrient-packed didn't equal delicious in most cases.

I'd have to be ready for people in and out constantly, from Stein to Mira to anyone with a solid theory and some ideas to heal her. Maybe I'd even have to be ready for her to never wake up. No one said that explicitly, but that's always a nagging in the back of your head in these situations and from the look on Kid's face, it was not just in the back of his head.

Mira had packed up her things and left, reassuring me that she was a phone call away and that she'd be back around dinner time. Kid dawdled, his hands jammed in his pockets, watching Maka but more so, me. "She didn't tell me why she wanted to leave without you."

_Oh, boy, here is it._ The question or inquisitive statement I always dreaded, some incarnation of _what ever happened to you and Maka?_ "No offense, Kid, but I'm not going to tell you either."

He smiled wanly and shrugged at me, "That wasn't a probing question, Soul, more of an absolution of my own guilt. I had always assumed you hadn't known either."

I felt gutted, raw from the day and knew it was only going to get worse from here. "I know."

"Then is this going to be a problem?" He leaned against the wall, appraising my face.

I raised an eyebrow, "Wasn't that a question to ask before you brought her back here?" I only paused for a second before jumping back in, waving my hand at him. "It's done, Kid. She's here. I'm taking care of her. I still… care, if that's what you're worried about."

Again, the assessing, the probing stare, "You'll tell me if it becomes a problem?"

"Sure." The lie of all lies right there. I think I'd rather let this kill me than admit that it was killing me.

His sigh told me he didn't believe a word I said, and I didn't expect any less from Kid. "I'll be back sometime this week. Manage until then." I gave him a thin smile and watched him walk out of the room, listening to his receding footsteps and the clack of the door.

We were alone and I was terrified to look at her again. "Why should I care?" I asked the floor, clenching my fists so hard I could feel my nails digging into the skin of my palms. I stood, plunging my hands into my hair as I started a lopsided circle in the room, pacing around the bed as if that was going to clear my head. It only aided in building up the terror, amping it until my heart felt like it was going to burst up through my throat.

That's when I felt it, that little lapping pull of her soul like a whisper from across the room. My eyes shot to her, seeing her still and statuesque. "Hi, Maka."

I stupidly waited for her answer.

Nothing, not even another whisper from somewhere in my mind but I still managed to stumble towards the bed, taking a seat next to her. "I like your hair this way." _Oh, jeez, Soul, get yourself together._ But no, I had to make this normal if I could. "It looks like too much work, though, so I can't vouch it'll stay that way. Maybe Mira will be better at it."

Could I touch her? Was that OK? I looked to her hand and put a tentative finger on hers, feeling the radiating warmth. "I…" If she hated it, I assumed she'd still find some way to let me know so I clutched her hand between mine. "It's nice to have you home." I waited again, feeling my fingers tighten on hers. "Damn it, I'm pathetic. You're not home and I'm just talking to a body for all I know."

It was like a rubber band snapping at the soft flesh of my neck, just below my ear.

I ran my hand over the ache, a small, trembling laugh exiting my lips. "OK, I don't know what you disagreed with, but message heard, loud and clear." I drifted my thumb over her knuckles, still somehow hopefully staring at her face for a change. But this wasn't some fairy tale, wasn't a magical moment and dread started to close in on me again, strangling any of the normalcy I had created. "I missed you," choked out of my throat. "I feel like I both do and don't deserve to say that but that doesn't make it any less true. I missed you so much." Crying came easily then.

* * *

The first night I couldn't sleep until 3 AM, finding excuses to get up and to look in on her. There was never any change as if I had expected any, but I continued it anyway. That finally hour I laid there, wondering how I was supposed to feel. You couldn't be angry at someone in a coma, could you? You couldn't argue, you couldn't reason, you couldn't rehash the past. Instead, you had to just swallow all of it down and either let it go or let it eat you alive. I was starting to feel gnawed at.

I can't even tell you how or when I fell asleep, but it was one of those dreams that you swear you could feel. The ivories were under my fingertips and I tested a note, hearing the sound reverberate as if I was in an empty concert hall. Maybe I was, but all I could see was the single illumination of light that shone straight down on my hands, giving a circle of vision that didn't even include the whole piano, just the keyboard itself.

For a second, I was relieved. I had assumed tonight would be plagued by one of my many common Maka dreams or a distorted version of my current reality. Playing the piano wasn't so bad in comparison. But it didn't feel quite right as if my hands weren't really matching the keys and when I hit a second note it was sour compared to the first. I half expected to suddenly realize I was in my underwear and we were actually in the middle of one of my elementary school recitals, my family and friends laughing at me.

Or maybe it wasn't that kind of nightmare since the next thing was an icy cold hand running down my arm, closing over top of mine on the keys. I thought about screaming but it stuck in my throat, the only sound another tone of the piano as the disembodied hand pressed me into the keys. It sounded melodic, the right sound for the right key, and when I narrowed my eyes at the fingers I realized why. The scar on her middle finger from a battle with a witch in Italy, another just peeking under her thumb from a dishwashing accident, a rogue knife in the sink that she hadn't remembered was there.

"Maka?"

Another press, another note, beautiful and fluid. But it was sluggish, the process not really creating a song, just disjointed but lovely sound. After a few more notes, the hand clutched mine as if to squeeze the life out of my fingers. It should have hurt, but it somehow felt anxious. As her hand moved up my arm I turned my head, trying to catch a glimpse of her, but instead found myself staring at my ceiling, my hands clutched desperately into the sheets.

I was out of bed and across the hall before I could breathe again, flipping the light on in her room. She was still there motionless like a princess under glass.


	2. Resonance

I'm really interested in seeing myself write something other than fluff. Please tell me if you like it. I'm really feeding the Soul angst.

* * *

I waited for Mira to the left of the door. She hadn't bothered closing it but I wished she had, the sound of the water in the basin and her swift strokes against Maka's skin almost driving me mad. I shouldn't be here. Next time I should just get out and go, use it as free time, but the thought of that made me queasy as well. Leaving Maka didn't seem like an option anymore.

"You should take a nap," Mira called from the room, not pausing in her job.

"What?" I had heard her just fine but was in a strange way thankful for the conversation.

There was a pause and I could hear her toss a cloth, "You look like hell. Did you sleep at all?"

"Two hours."

"Take a rest, Soul."

Resting didn't seem possible, but I wondered if Mira would come after me if I didn't listen to her. Once she started hounded you about something-

"I don't hear you moving. Go to bed."

And there it was. I shrugged before slinking across the hall. There didn't seem a point in closing my door since I wasn't going to actually sleep so I left it, collapsing on the bed with enough sound to tell Mira I'd followed orders. It was about five minutes before I was drooling into the pillow. Again, that keyboard, my hands ready under a spiral of light. Her hand floated down from my shoulder. I tried my best to resist it, but my other hand left the keys, grasping for that hand over mine. But it was Mira's hand and my eyes were focusing in the sunlight of the afternoon.

"I'm all done here."

"How long was I asleep?" I rolled over, moving away from Mira's touch.

Her blue eyes narrowed at me, "An hour. Are you sure you're OK?"

"Great," I groaned and sat up.

She sighed and I started to worry that no one believed anything I said anymore. "I did the hard part, but you'll have to exercise her limbs. Don't forget."

"Yes, ma'am."

Her eyes rolled between the bandages. "And sleep more than a few hours tonight. You don't need to stay up with her if that's what you're doing."

"Yes, ma'am," I repeated for another eye roll and a huff from Mira.

She didn't offer me anything more and I could hear her footsteps receding into the hallway. I felt groggy and considered toppling back into the bed but knew that was just avoidance. I forced myself to my feet and moved across the hall, hearing the front door shut behind Mira. We were alone again.

Mira had fixed her hair and thankfully styled it better than I ever could have hoped to achieve. The room smelled like soap, distinctly not the kind that Maka used and at that thought, a wave of nostalgia choked me. In bed, sometimes when I knew she was asleep, I would pull her tighter and sink my face into her hair, taking in the earthy but slightly floral scent. I think it had been lavender. That felt like so long ago.

"Damn it," I croaked, clearing a rogue tear that had forced its way out.

Mira had explained that it was nothing more than massage and motion like I was working her muscles before training to stretch them and after training to ease any pain. Easy for partners. Hard when you'd just been thinking about how much you missed her in your bed.

It was my job, though, so I reached for her right arm, starting a smooth rotation at her shoulder. There was no resistance but no help from her either, like a doll. I tried to force that view to stay in my head as if I was working on a thing rather than- _Don't even go there, Soul. Don't even put it into words or else._ I cleared my throat. "I think Marie said she was going to come by tonight."

I paused, again forgetting that this was not a conversation.

"She's going to bring Ben. I guess she probably told you about him, maybe sent you a picture. He's a carbon copy of Stein, almost scary how much he looks like him. Can't say he's that far from Stein's personality either." I placed her right arm down carefully before moving to her right leg. "But he's only five, so she's got some hope that he'll come around with enough people time. I, uh… well, after you left I kind of stayed with Marie for a while."

My hand planted on her thigh and paused, reminding myself this was a doll with a deep breath. "I think Stein was worried and, honestly, he was right. I wasn't… I don't know how to describe it." This was starting to border on catharsis and I found the words just rolling off my tongue. "I helped Marie with Ben. Did stuff around the house. Pretty sure Stein did one or two experiments while I was sleeping but being there kept me… from doing something I'd regret." That was a loaded statement, and even I couldn't be sure about what I really meant since there had been too many options then.

I let those words sit stagnant in the air as if she could offer some kind of insight. I cleared my throat, "You'd never believe this but being around the baby was OK. Maybe I even liked it." I wasn't expecting to laugh but a little chuckle released from my mouth, the smile not instantly disappearing. "I actually miss being there, but it didn't make any sense to stay once Ben went to preschool. I think Marie tried to find some excuse but I wouldn't let her. I… started feeling like I was trespassing. Living a life that wasn't mine."

I brought her right leg back to the bed and switched sides, lifting the left. "But that's the thing, Maka. I don't think I have a life, you know? I'm a teacher at DWMA now, and sure, I'm OK at it. I definitely don't have the worst record with the kids and being the last deathscythe gives me a pretty high coolness factor so I'm good there. I still see my, _our _friends. I still play piano, maybe more than I used to with all the time on my hands, but that's it. I don't love anything anymore."

That whisper of her felt like it was somewhere in the room but I was too busy thinking about my own words. _I don't love anything anymore_. I flexed her ankle absently, fighting with myself in the silence of the room. Again, what would be the point of going through the past with a shell? "Maybe when you left… oh, fuck it." I gently brought her leg back down and sat at the foot of the bed, my head falling into my hands. "Fuck all of this."

That part was still locked up too tightly.

* * *

"Soul!" Ben's demanding little call was the closest thing I was getting to a salve for the wounds of the day. There's something about the quality of his voice that always makes me smile.

"In here," I groaned from the couch. I had decided locking the front door was foolish with all the ins and outs. Thankfully, Marie hadn't even bothered to knock.

Ben appeared over the arm of the couch, his chin resting on the edge. "It's rude."

"What is?" I propped myself up on an elbow.

"You greet guests, Soul." The adult level exasperation in his voice made me laugh.

Marie emerged from the hallway, stopping in the doorway as if she saw a ghost.

I raised an eyebrow at her short-stop before pushing myself the rest of the way to sitting. "Hey, Marie."

"Are you eating? Sleeping?" That was Marie in mom-mode for you. She was at my side instantly, fever checking me like I wasn't almost twenty-four.

"If you think this is bad, wait until you see Maka." My voice was playful, but as soon as it left my mouth I knew it wasn't a joke.

Marie bit her lip like she was on the verge of tears, adding another tinge of regret to my comment. "Hey, uh, Ben, let's play piano." I moved away from her hands, scooping up Ben as soon as I took the steps to the end of the couch. "Mom needs to visit with Maka."

"Who's Maka?" Kids will ask anything on their minds, even questions you don't really want to answer. I hoisted him a little higher, hoping the swoop to the piano bench would make him forget that he asked. Another thing about kids is that you try to avoid a question, you're just going to get it again. "Soul, who's Maka?"

Adding my name made it clear I wasn't getting away with it. "A friend who's sick."

"Like puke sick?" His tiny face went fearful. That was his least favorite kind of sick.

"No, like, uh…" I was was ninety percent sure that if I said coma he'd already understand, Stein's sense of medical anatomy passed via DNA, but he was a kid, after all. "Remember Sleeping Beauty from the stories? Like that kind of sick."

"A coma," he said with the impatience he always did when I gave him a kid-answer.

I should have known better. "Yeah, like that."

Ben fingered a key, making the piano hum deeply. "Mom's crying."

I didn't bother trying to listen for Marie for confirmation. Ben had this thing with her, what I guess was a deep soul wavelength connection, that enabled him to just know things. It wasn't all the time, and it wasn't always perfect, but he was usually in the right ballpark. I didn't doubt at that moment, that's for sure. "It's natural to be sad when your friends are hurt, Ben."

"Is that why you're sad?" He looked up at me expectantly.

_Way to aim for the gut, kid._ "One of the top three, yeah." _Just falling short of..._

"OK." I was glad my explanation was good enough for Ben to just move on to the regular clunking we did at the piano. I tried to throw in an actual lesson every now and then, this time being no different, but Ben didn't have a lot of patience yet, at least not for my teaching style. We made some not so beautiful music together until I could hear Marie walk in behind us.

"Come on, Benny." Marie held out her hand for him and when he took it, she started to pull him towards the bedroom. For a second I couldn't move, unsure at why Marie would take a child to see _that_.

_Stop it, it's not like she's a corpse. She's still Maka. She's still alive no matter how much you tell yourself_\- I ground my fist into my thigh. I counted to ten until I was sure I wasn't going to cry and then stood and followed Ben's voice to Maka's room.

Ben, in his infinite childlike ability to be awesome, was sitting on her bed and talking to her like Maka was his new friend. Not afraid of her pale skin, not worried by her thinness that was started to make her a little too angled, not concerned with the fact that she wasn't going to answer him. He continued to rattle off his stats for her, hand over hers. "I love ice cream, too, even though Momma says too much will make me sick. Not like you sick, but like puke sick and I hate puke sick but sometimes I think Momma's lying because ice cream is just good."

He moved from sitting to leaning over Maka, his little hand clasped to her face, turning it. Marie started to reach for him, but he shook his head. "No, wait, Momma."

"Benny, be careful. I told you Maka's sick."

Instead of retreating, Ben moved closer, getting his second hand on her other cheek. "She's talking, so wait."

That felt like a blow to the stomach and when I looked at Marie I could see she had felt it, too.

Ben clicked his tongue in frustration, sitting back on his heels as he threw his hands back in his lap. "She can't do it for very long."

"Do what?" I croaked, the only thought in my mind _she can't live very long_.

"The way she tries to talk. It's too hard. It hurts." Ben sighed, looking back at me with the same disappointed look on his face as when I didn't greet him at the door. "And the other way, she says you're not doing it right, Soul."

"Benny, stop it." Marie picked him up off the bed. Her eyes were more focused on me though, that same look that she always had when she was appraising how much I was wounded.

I rushed over to him, picking him up out of Marie's hold. "What other way?"

"The piano."

My legs felt like rubber and for a moment I was afraid that I would drop him. "The piano…?" I had to let him slip from my arms so my knees could buckle, sending me into a hard seat on the bed.

"Soul," Marie tried to keep her voice from raising or sounding frantic. She was gripping my shoulders but I was too woozy from dream blending into reality to focus on her face.

"Marie, how am I supposed to do it right?" I was halfway to tears again.

"Lie down, Soul." She eased me back on the foot of the bed, my head right next to Maka's blanketed feet. "I'm going to call Stein."

"No, Marie, just…" I sighed, letting a hand come to my face. "Just some water, OK?"

She hesitated before lifting Ben and putting him next to me on the bed. "Ben, if Soul doesn't keep his eyes open, yell."

"OK, Momma." He pressed a hand to my chest as if to show another measure with which he would watch me. Marie left the room with a determined swiftness. "Did I scare you?"

"Well, yeah, Ben," I laughed weakly.

"Sorry." His nose wrinkled in that pre-cry Ben face so I reached out and smoothed his hair.

"No, it's not your fault. You were trying to do Maka a favor, right?" I pulled him towards my chest, hugging him as he clutched tightly back.

He sniffled once but that was it and forced himself out of my arms. "Are you going to help her?"

Marie came back, water in one hand and phone in the other. I gave her a withering look, "You didn't call him, right?"

"I was going to if you still looked like you were going to pass out." She placed the phone and water down on the nightstand before sitting next to my head, the bed now completely crowded.

I wanted to laugh at the thought that a week ago no one even came to the apartment and now I was lounging in a bed full of four. "I think I'm OK."

"Soul, are you going to help her?" Ben's patience usually only lasted two adult sentences.

"Oh, Benny, don't ask him questions right now." She ran her fingers through my hair in the same way I'd watched her do to Ben a million times. Marie had done a lot of nice things for me, but at that moment it was the best, ever. "You're going to push yourself too hard for her, Soul, I just know it."

I sighed and pressed her loving hand against its place on my scalp. "I can't help myself. Guess I'm a masochist."

"Both of you are idiots," she muttered, pulling her hand out from underneath mine. "And you, mister," Marie pulled Ben into her lap, almost sending a rogue foot into my face. "I know it's some talent we'll figure out when you're older, but you need to be more careful about scaring people."

Ben pouted and hid his face against her chest. I waited for some kind of argument from Ben but when he was silent I tugged at her pant leg, drawing her attention back to me. "He was right, Marie."

"My son's right about you not playing the piano right for Maka?" She sighed, pointing back to the nightstand. "That sounds like I should be calling my husband right now."

"I've dreamt twice about playing with her since she got here."

"Soul," her voice raised in frustration. Marie pressed a hand to her face for a moment before taking a deep breath. "And I shouldn't tell Stein is what you're going to tell me now."

"See, these psychic talents run in the family." I patted her knee. "Just hold on to it for a couple of days, OK? Just to see if it keeps happening?"

"All I'm hearing is _Marie, let me put myself in danger._"

"You worry too much." Danger, if there was any, was a small price to pay. If it could be me, if I could break whatever this is, maybe I could break myself free in the process.

* * *

It was deja vu to sit at the real piano now, that dream coming every time I shut my eyes for more than a few minutes. Still, it wasn't encouraging much sleep since each time seemed more frustrating than the last, her hands clutching so desperately at mine by the end of each segment. _What am I missing?_ Ben had said I wasn't doing it right as if there was a right way to play a dream piano with a woman in a coma. Sure.

I started with the notes she seemed to press me to each time but even strung together at a quicker pace they didn't seem to form anything other than sound. It wasn't a melody, but then again Maka wasn't a musician, never had been. That was my talent, after all.

I started playing with the nearby keys, trying to make the notes make sense in some way. There were so many options, so many combinations, and I found myself scribbling furiously at the blank sheet music in an attempt to make some of it stay.

"Soul?" I had definitely heard it as Maka's voice, but when I turned it was Mira, her lips pressed together in a thin line.

I brought a hand from the keys, clenching the sheet music off the tray as if I were going to be able to hide the mad mess. "Oh, hey, Mira."

"You've been playing for hours."

I stood achingly slow from the bench, feeling the strain in my legs and lower back. "No, uh, I just started."

"Soul," her tone instantly told me before her words even did, "I already saw to Maka and everything. You played the whole time. You didn't even realize I came in. And I have the feeling you didn't sleep again last night. On top of that, have you eaten today? Showered?"

"Sure." _Had I?_ It was true, the days were starting to blend together, so maybe I had missed a meal.

"Bullshit."

Mira hadn't been my teacher for years but her cursing still hit me. "Mira, I swear."

"Liar." She pulled me by the collar, forcing me down the hallway.

There was no stopping her, even with my hand trying to pry her from my neck. "Mira, seriously, come on." The begging didn't work.

It wasn't until I was in front of the mirror in the bathroom that she relinquished her hold. I almost wish she hadn't since I needed that hand to ground me. Instead, my hands came hard to the edge of the sink, holding myself up. My eyes were sunken, my skin almost as white as my hair. Really, it looked like I was the one wasting away.

"Now tell me again you're eating and sleeping."

"I get it, Mira."

"Look," her hands planted on her hips, "If this isn't different tomorrow, I'm telling Kid you can't handle this. I get it, she's your meister, but we can't lose both of you."

"She's not…" A wave of nausea with a side of something close to self-loathing hit my gut and threatened up my throat.

She sighed. "I am going to exercise Maka today. You're going to shower, get dressed, and leave this apartment to get something to eat. Like sitting down at a restaurant. Then you're going to go grocery shopping. Until all of that happens, you are not allowed to come back and if you try to skip a step I will tell Kid today instead of tomorrow."

"What, am I supposed to bring you receipts?" I grumbled.

"You don't lie well, Soul. I'll be able to tell."

I did as I was told because Mira had never told a greater truth: I'm a shitty liar.

* * *

Every day after, I made sure to be washed, dressed, and fed by the time Mira came by. I even mostly forced myself to nap while she was in the apartment as if to quell every last one of her complaints. For the most part, she left me alone, no more forced momming.

Except I was sure she'd have something to say if she knew the way I still spent my nights. Like most now, it was 3 AM and I was sitting in her room waiting for some kind of change. By this point, I would have slept an hour or two, mostly filled with a stretched out rendition of the same dream, the same piano, the same hands. Now, it would be thinking. All the thinking about how I was doing this wrong.

"How did Ben talk to you?" I murmured. "It has to be just him, right? Something is special about Ben because if you could talk, wouldn't you talk to Mira or Marie or maybe me?" I replayed the memory in my mind for probably the hundredth time, following little Ben being Ben. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation or being too close to the problem, but it took me this time to actually see it. I stood up from my seat at the desk and moved to the bed, kneeling over her.

I made a point to never touch her, never get on the bed unless it was absolutely necessary. It felt wrong otherwise. My hands cupped her face and I had to bite back the emotion, the memory of holding her like this still feeling so fresh. Maybe Ben wasn't talking, exactly. He was a kid, after all, and what he knew about meisters and weapons was limited. So maybe this was just resonance.

But how do I resonate without her being here, without her being prepared for me or feeding into me? "You just try, dummy." Thinking about the past, thinking about all those other vicious battles, I focused on her and us and then I almost screamed in anguish, sure for a second I had fallen asleep because I was back at that damn piano. But it was all wrong, no single column of light but that big black beauty shining in all its glory in front of me. I put my hands on the keys with an almost contented sigh.

"Soul…" and this time it definitely was her voice, not a mistake, and my head swiveled in every direction, trying to catch sight of her. A strange wonder if she'd have short hair here, too, crossing my mind.

"Maka?" It didn't matter where I looked, she wasn't there. But she had to be because to resonate it has to be the two of us and it just has to be her here.

"It hurts."

"Shit," I groaned. Maybe I had fallen asleep, maybe this was some new level of the nightmare as the grief and time continued to weigh on me. She was dying and I was failing and this would be the new way I'd be reminded of it every night.

"Play."

I couldn't stop the scream of frustration, "Play what?" But all I got in return was a searing pain behind my eyes. When I could refocus, I was back on my knees, my hands still holding her face. "Fuck." I brought my hand to my face, wiping at my mouth, and when it came back all I saw was the blood.


	3. Holding Back

So, finding me passed out on the floor obviously having fallen off the bed with blood smeared across my face was apparently the line for Marie. She called Stein immediately. I guess I couldn't blame her. I stayed on the floor, Marie refusing to let me get up until Stein arrived. She was nice enough to clean my face, but those were the only niceties I got as she proceeded to chew me out to fill the time. Ben seemed to enjoy the fact that someone else was getting this kind of treatment, kicking his legs contently from Maka's bed.

Of course, Stein didn't seem half as concerned as Marie, giving me a quick once-over before sitting me up. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Uh…" I made the mistake of making eye contact with Marie, her face saying _if you don't tell him I will_. "I just… tried to resonate with her?"

"And it worked?" Stein had about as much surprise on his face as I've ever seen him able to muster.

"Sort of, I think," I shrugged. "She wasn't there though, just her voice, and she could only say a few words before I got, I don't know, kicked out."

Any further emotion on his face was shelved, sinking back into his normal analytical expression. "You couldn't see her, just heard her?"

"And she said it hurt," my voice cracked and regardless of how angry she was with me Marie was instantly at my side, a hand on my shoulder. "But she had to be there, right? Somewhere there?"

"Technically. What else was there?"

"The piano, me in my suit, and that's it. She told me I had to play, but play what? There's no set song for us to resonate with, each situation has been different and I know that sometimes I've just _known_ but this time I don't. I don't know what to do for her-"

Marie cut me off with a hard squeeze to my shoulder and I let the words stop, trying not to cry for the hundredth day in a row.

Stein paused for a moment, his hand coming to his chin. "How badly did it hurt?"

I blinked, "Not that bad. Just the passing out wasn't great."

"Franken, if you're suggesting that he-"

Stein didn't hesitate to run over her words, "Marie, that's exactly what I'm suggesting. I say you try again. Perhaps play a selection or two."

Marie let me go and moved to her husband, pushing a hand into his chest as she made him take a few steps away from me as if doing that brought them out of earshot. "He could get hurt."

"Obviously." He leaned into her as if to say this only between the two of them. "But you'd do it for me, wouldn't you?"

Marie huffed but didn't reply, just clutching her hand into his shirt for a moment before turning back to me. "You're only allowed to do it when someone else is here."

"OK." Now I was getting ground rules? In my own apartment?

Marie pointed a harsh finger at me. "And only once a day. Maybe. After we see what this second time will do to you."

"OK," I repeated with a little less patience.

She looked to Stein as if to wait for him to object but he simply held up his hands in surrender.

"But can I try again now, while you two are here?"

I got a simultaneous 'yes' and 'no' but obviously only heeded one of them. I slowly came to my feet, hearing a vague protest from Marie that was overlapped with assurances from Stein. I reached for her face, cupping those delicate cheeks in my hand and just about prayed for anything.

And there was the piano under my fingers, not a disembodied voice but the feeling of her there, like I left her too weak to speak. "OK, Maka." It couldn't be a show tune, or jazz, or Satie, it needed to be something special, something that came almost intrinsically. I started with whatever conglomeration of sound the dream had produced, whatever I could remember from the feverish sheet music I created. While it seemed to buy me time, no change and no pain, it didn't seem to do much else.

This what a fact that I just seemed to know: I was able to stay because I was playing and whatever wavelength I was putting out was strong enough to ward off the magic. But whatever I was doing wasn't enough to actually break the magic. What was wrong? What could possibly be stronger than this? How do you unlock someone inside themselves? I let that wave of futility overtake me and my fingers stopped.

That time at least the bleeding wasn't so bad.

* * *

Other than Marie's bossy orders and the blood on my face, I didn't remember much from after that second attempt. Really, the only clarity came the next morning when the sun woke me, something that I probably hadn't experienced since Maka had come to stay again. Even stranger, I wasn't alone in bed, Ben lounging in a full-blown, chainsaw snoring sleep. I slid achingly slow out of bed, tiptoeing across the room. I paused only once when Ben seemed to roll over violently for a moment before settling again. I made it to the hallway without disturbing him and shut the door.

Even more surprising than Ben was Stein sprawled on the couch, lab coat serving as an impromptu blanket. "Stein?" I croaked, suddenly realizing my throat was aching for liquid.

Stein opened only one eye, focusing on me. "Oh, you're up."

It seemed like a strange reaction in the midst of a bunch of oddities in my apartment. "How long have I been sleeping?"

"Three days." Stein slowly peeled himself from the couch. "You passed out only a few moments after your last resonance and, well, here you are now."

I couldn't seem to rub two brain cells together for a reply. Instead, I moved towards the kitchen, pouring myself the water my body was so insistent on.

Stein had followed me, a hand coming to my shoulder. "Slowly."

The tiny sip I took left my throat screaming, but I could feel my stomach lurch at the contact, taking time to settle. "Ben's in my room," I murmured dumbly.

"He's a good watchdog," Stein smiled in his sideways manner. "With that interesting talent of his I thought it best he was with you. That, and he's particularly fond of you."

"And Marie?"

"With Maka."

I took another inadequate sip. "How mad is she?"

"Furious," he said with an amused laugh.

"That's funny?" I had more to say, but the throat still barely allowed the words I used to come. I tried to satiate it with another sip.

"You know, that's what makes us good partners, and really, this applies to most partner sets." Stein began to bustle around the kitchen as if it were his own, going through the motions of getting the coffee ready. "It's that classic model of opposites attract. Marie keeps me from going too far, while I push her to break limits. You and Maka were very similar-"

"Please," I spat the word. The last thing I wanted was to think of our perfect partnership.

Stein, either feeling particularly sadistic or thinking there was some important lesson here, continued, "You and Maka were very similar. Though I could never really figure out who regulated who." The coffee cups clinked as he brought them out of the cabinet.

"Maka," I croaked before taking another sip of water. "She always had the courage."

He shook his head but still focused on the drip of the coffee, a finger coming to his chin to tap out the thoughts. "But you had the stability she needed for that courage. It was your devotion, the way you gave her ever part of you."

It was starting to feel more like sadism.

"You'll have to do that again, Soul."

"What?" I wondered if gripping at my chest would stop the hurt, would clue him in, but regardless of the movement of my hands, I knew he was going to continue.

"It's obvious you're holding back." How Stein could ever be so matter of fact, so astute in the face of someone emotionally bleeding out was beyond me and that blankness on his face was only feeding it. "I understand you're hurt but you've closed off a part of yourself to her. If you're going to keep doing that, then you might as well quit right now. Let the rest of us try what we can and bury her when she finally loses whatever strength she has left."

No amount of water on Earth could clear the clench in my throat, the arid dryness from swallowing his words. _It just isn't fair. It isn't fair. _Why couldn't I just keep that one little part away from her that she'd wounded? But if it was that or she died, was I really in a position to choose? "It's not fair." It was nothing more than a pathetic whimper.

"No, it's not." Stein turned back to the counter and filled the cups with coffee. He was infuriatingly normal at that moment, mundane as if he hadn't ripped my heart out. "Let's go see Marie. Expect her to hug you."

Maybe some compassion from someone in this apartment was what I needed. Stein motioned for me first and I padded out into the hallway, making sure to remain extra quiet as we edged past my room. Ben questions were the last thing I could stomach right now.

As soon as I hit the doorway, Marie was out of her seat, hugging me tightly around my middle. "You giant idiot."

I felt like a kid who had put my baseball through a window, "Sorry, Marie."

"Neither of you are sorry and you know it." She released me to look almost menacingly at her husband, something she could never pull off in a million years, before snatching the coffee from him. "But you're forbidden, _forbidden_-"

"Marie, I have to," I put all the strength I had left into those words. "But I'll wait, tomorrow maybe."

She looked from me to Stein, her coffee cup clutched tightly between her fingers. "You need time, Soul."

"I don't think she has that kind of time," I murmured. I couldn't look at Marie anymore but the only place left was Maka and that seemed worse. My eyes strayed to the floor as I moved towards the bed, my limbs feeling heavy from the exhaustion I couldn't escape. "Can I… can I be alone with her?" It was an absurd request and I expected rejection, complaint, but just heard their receding footsteps, the door shutting behind the two of them.

Being close to her, just our skin touching in some way, was the way I had always felt whole, alive as if she part of the vital process of my breathing. I made the last few steps to the bed, kneeling before easing myself down next to her, my head on the same pillow. The smell was still wrong, too flowery, and I blamed the queasiness in my stomach on that as I let my hand fall to her cheek, tilting her head my way. "Stein said I've locked something away and I have because, damn it, Maka, I deserve to be angry, too, don't I?"

I expected a sting but got nothing, my thumb caressing her cheek.

"It would be easier if we could talk this out first, but…" I cleared my throat, feeling all my words clustered there. I had rehearsed this a million times in my dreams, but it didn't make saying it any easier. "Maka, I'm angry, I'm hurt, but I love you more than all of that. I love you so I'm going to bring you back." By then I had let too much drain away, and in my exhaustion, I allowed myself to be pulled into sleep, my hand drifting from her cheek to her shoulder, pulling her tightly to me.

Marie and Stein had left me there and when Mira came for the evening, she didn't say anything about finding me in the bed. She just gently shook my shoulder until I sat up in a half stupor. "I brought you food."

"I'm not…" I started weakly but let it trail off, my stomach answering for me instead with a groan. "OK, alright."

"And you absolutely have to shower," Mira frowned.

"Yes, ma'am." I'm sure she would have clocked me if I weren't already so pathetic looking. In return for not beating the snot out of me, I did as I was told. The shower was long, something I should not have started with since I felt it oozing the last of my strength, like a siren's call back to bed. I got dressed back in pajamas afterward, acknowledging that no matter how much I wanted to dive back in, my body wasn't ready.

The food, as Mira had the audaciously to called it, was nothing more than the gruel-like substance that Maka got on a regular basis. I should have known that sleeping for three days didn't mean you got a cheeseburger and fries. And when the thought of that made my stomach wither, I stuck with the mash in front of me, slurping it slowly as I rested my head on my hand. It tasted kind of like sock.

As I reached the bottom of the bowl, Mira appeared. "Tomorrow, Stein and Kid will be here." I nodded as if this conversation was going to include me, Mira obviously back in teacher mode, her arms tightly across her chest. "They'll determine if this resonance is too much on you. It might be your last chance."

"No pressure," I grunted.

"Soul, please." I had never heard Mira beg so I can't tell you what it would sound like, but the quality of this voice was alien to Mira and both of our faces registered the same surprise.

"Then I have to get it right tomorrow." I pushed the bowl away, creating a space where I could rest my head and still look at her, cheek pressed against the warm tabletop. "I'll do it, Mira. Don't worry."

She seemed unsure of her next set of words, awkwardly settling on, "I won't doubt you."

"Thanks."

Mira turned, making space in the doorway. "Go back to bed, Soul. OK?"

I hesitated, comfortable in the awkward bend of collapsing on the table but pushed myself up. She switched with me, moving into the kitchen as I started the trek down the hallway. I paused at the doors and for a moment I could swear that lavender scent was there as if Mira had gotten it right this time. I moved to Maka's room.

I was wrong and I knew it couldn't have been the actual scent since the room reeked of that other soap just as it did every time Mira was here. But it had been there, pulling me and I continued to be led back to her bed, back to her, and before I knew it I was curled next to her, only brave enough this time to hold her hand. As I drifted off, I swore her fingers flexed, but it was only part of the dream. It had to be.


	4. Under Lock & Key

Very short update, but I feel like this needs to be its own chapter.

* * *

My fingers were flexed on the keys, the real keys this time, Stein's words reverberating in my brain, the accusation rang loud and true. I held myself back from her but I had to give her all of me, every last bit of it if I was ever going to see her again. She had called it a dark song and I was worried that it was black as pitch now.

I didn't think I had ever practiced this song before; it was something so intrinsic, an extension of the pounding of the blood in my veins. A scared little part of me needed to hear it here first, so I began the melody I had played for a young woman who I never expected to become a part of it. Where I had stopped for her all those years ago became a blur of new sound, nothing from the sheets of music strewn at the piano but from all of the tangled experience we had. It only closed when I could translate those words I had said to her the night before, words that maybe this time would get to her.

As the last note sounded I finally heard the footsteps behind me, turning to see Kid with his hands stuffed in his pockets. "Soul?"

"I'm ready." I stood up, my legs trembling underneath me, blaming it on the cramp of the bench. I walked past him without making eye contact, hustling down the hallway.

Stein was right next to the doorway, his arms across his chest as he leaned into the wall. "Soul-"

"Tell me later, Stein," I cracked half a grin, a feature that probably hadn't graced my face in a few years. "Right now I need to bring Maka back."

One of them had propped Maka up in the bed, giving the allusion that she was sitting up on her own, waiting for me. I moved slowly towards the bed and knelt on the edge, grasping her face in my hands just like before. This was the last time.

When the piano appeared I didn't give a second's worth of time to silence, instead, I started the song that I knew as part of me. I thundered through the melodies that were just me and started into the ones that were us, an additional rhythm that felt completely like her. It was then that I felt her hand, not aiding me on the keyboard but putting gentle pressure on my shoulders. I had to resist the temptation to turn and look at her because I knew it wasn't done, I wasn't laid bare.

As practiced, I opened that partitioned part of me, letting Maka have everything just like years ago, like it was supposed to be. A warmth started to bleed from those fingers, a new heaviness to them against my shoulders. "Soul?" her voice sounded rusty, but it was there, it was fully her.

The song was over and there was no pain, no flash pressing back to the real world. I risked turning, her fingers gliding across my shoulders as I did. Maka was there, short hair and shocked green eyes, in the flesh. I erupted from the seat and my hands came to her cheeks as they had just minutes before in the real world. "Maka…" She was radiating heat, life, and I felt as if I was slipping into a dreamy sleep just touching her. Without another thought I leaned into her, planting a kiss on her lips.

It was disorienting to wake up in almost the same position, our lips not connected but my face hovering over hers. Stein's voice was like a buzz in my ear and I could feel Kid's hands touching at my arm but it was as if none of that really existed because as I took another breath, Maka opened her eyes. "She's OK," even my own voice sounded far off.

"Soul," it was an aching croak but she offered a smile to soften the sound.

I tried another word but the tears seemed to choke any of them away, soft droplets falling from my face to hers. It wasn't until I saw a drop of red that I knew. In a way, I prayed maybe it would end there for me, with that part of my heart open and her alive and well.

* * *

Life doesn't play into my dramatics, though. For a little while I thought the blackness I was in happened to be the afterlife but it really just turned out to be empty dreams as if my mind didn't have the energy to even produce the thoughts. I just waited in that limbo until I could feel the warmth of the sun again, until my eyes finally opened to color and life, back in my room, in my bed.

That heat wasn't the light since when I opened my eyes, the sun wasn't touching the windows yet. It was the two bodies pressed against me, one on each side. Ben's little head was pressed tightly against my arm looking impossibly uncomfortable as he tried to grip me in his sleep. On the other side, Maka's face rested just inches from mine, her arm draped over me so her hand was directly over my heart as if testing for the beats. I let my eyes scan the room, finding Marie in one of the armchairs brought in from the living room, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

As if I had the energy or the water in me for it, my eyes started to tear, a sob breaking deep from my chest. I would have tried to put a hand to my mouth but I had neither available to me and the sputtering breath shot through the quiet room. Marie's eyes opened instantly. "Soul?" I let another sob answer for me as if I could do anything else, and she moved quickly from the seat to my side. Regardless of the other two, Marie pulled me out of their grasps into a sitting position, clutching me tightly to her.

"Marie?" Maka's half-asleep voice only urged my tears, especially as her hand searched for mine in the sheets. I moved my hand to hers, squeezing as our fingers intertwined.

In the next second, Ben was up, his little face pressing between me and Marie.

This was all the strangest feeling, a warm, loving kind of agony if there is such a thing.

Marie held onto me until my weeping stopped, pulling me away as I settled into unsteady breaths. "You're not allowed to do anything like that again."

I couldn't laugh, replacing it with a sharp breath from my nose, a weak smile pulling at the corners of my mouth.

"But you're OK?"

"OK," I croaked back, feeling the sandpaper in my throat.

"Good," her voice warbled and she pressed a hand to her mouth for a moment. Marie eased me back into the bed, Ben instantly moving to crawl on my chest, taking up the space Marie left behind. "I'm going to get you some things and call Stein."

I nodded, a weak arm wrapping around Ben.

"Soul." He was half in a dream but I could see his face scrunching up.

"It's OK, Ben," my voice was barely above a whisper so ran my fingers through his hair, trying my best to channel Marie. It was her fingers flexing in mine that finally brought me to look at her, a moment I had been avoiding since seeing her lying there next to me. I tried to swallow before letting my head fall to her side, finding her face still so close to mine with her head on the pillow. "How are you?" I barely managed, sure that was the last of my voice.

Her other hand came to her mouth, her fingers pressing to her lips before letting them slide to her cheek. "I should be asking you that, sleeping for five days because of me."

I shrugged, my voice spent. I was glad it was gone because I was afraid I'd start begging, melting under the warmth of her green eyes.

"Thank you, Soul." I thought her hand would crush mine with the next squeeze. I brought the hand up, resting it on my chest, trying to avoid the way she was looking at me, those eyes searching for something in my face. I was able to do that until I heard her gulp, trying to press back her own tears.

The tears on her cheeks were torture and there was part of me that wanted so much to clear them from her face with my hands, my lips. But in the limited words she'd given me so far, I was waiting on a few more. I needed those few more, an echo of what I showed her through my song. But that's all I was, waiting, watching her tears until she pressed her face against my shoulder, hiding them from me.

And even though I hated it, I could feel that part of me closing back up, so quickly locked up again after barely going free.


	5. Stay

As you can see, I had some after Maka wakes up stuff already written, so here's a much bigger update.

* * *

It was a week before Maka was really up and around the apartment, Mira having to work with her daily to build the strength back up in her legs for walking. She was still shaky, relying on walls and furniture for balance and rest.

I tried to be busy. I tried to go back to work, my students endlessly irritating me with questions about where I'd been and if I was going to bring in my meister like show-and-tell. Rumors had definitely spread in my absence and Maka's presence was a constant conversation starter, much to my misery. I tried to be out of the apartment, making excuses that I was giving her time and space. We were two different people now, neither used to cohabitating anymore.

Being home proved that a blatant lie, both of us falling back into old patterns. I would get home and jazz would turn on while I showered away the grime of the day. I'd come out in my lounge clothes to find her curled on one of the chairs with a book. I'd sink into the couch and alternate between watching her read and resting my eyes until it was time to start dinner.

She'd been reading constantly, another throwback to our school years, and was working her way through the assortment I had left around the apartment. I would never admit it, but I kept buying books from random occasions throughout the year for her and left them around as if she were still with me. Watching her read them now, well, it was conflicting.

It was another week before it had begun to drive me crazy. Mira had begun to come less and less since her remaining duties, the strength and conditioning, could easily be performed by me. So touching her and spending more time with Maka became my job and regardless of the way we'd fallen back into regularity in actions we didn't seem to have the same ability to speak. Most nights revolved around slow small talk and stretches of silence. And I have to admit that it was more my fault than hers, each conversation starter she lobbed at me getting hit back with one-word answers. In the end, maybe I was getting more angry at myself than I ever was at her.

That night, I could have admitted that I was hiding in my room for the majority of the evening, but instead, I was pretending to pour over some book at my desk, something that looked almost school-related. The light had left my windows and the room was borderline dark, just my lamp illuminating the small space of my desk. I had heard her moving around before but for the most part, she was silent, only drifting between the kitchen and the living room.

Her footsteps started down the hall and I shut the book and stood from the desk, hoping just for the close of her door. Instead, it was a knock on mine. "Yeah?"

The door creaked open and she stepped in, her eyes nervously meeting mine. "Hey."

"Hi." _Great start again, Soul, really._

She took another step towards me and I found myself mirroring her, decreasing the space between us. "Are you… OK?"

I suppressed a groan, turning it into a clearing of my throat. "I, uh, Maka, I…" _Oh, for fuck's sake._ I planted a hand over my face, trying to forget how fucking useless I was with words.

"Soul…" The softness of my name made my hand fall, catching her green eyes glowing in the low light. For a second, I could have sworn we were eighteen again and she was coming into my room to spend the night. Her hand reached out towards me to rest softly on my chest. "I wish… I know it's not-"

A part of me knew that this was stupid, the worst possible move I could have made but the rest of me said it didn't matter. Everything felt just like it had, just like nothing had changed, and for a moment I could lie to myself and make it that way. I cut off her words with my lips, pressing them delicately into hers. I wish she had hesitated or slapped me in the face, or anything other than the soft way she sighed, everything about her relaxing instantly.

That other part caught up, my stomach turning. I planted my hands on her shoulders, knowing I was crossing a line into roughness, pulling her from me with just enough hesitation to keep her from falling backward. "No."

"What?" Her eyes fluttered open and I could see the frank shock on her face.

My grip loosened and I could feel my hands starting to tremble. "You can't just do this to me, Maka."

"I thought we…" She bit her lip to close off the words.

I forced a deep breath, feeling my lungs fill to a burning brim before letting it out, bordering on a shout. "You broke my heart!"

A laugh started on her lips but the smile quickly disappeared, her eyes searching my face. "What?"

"When you left, you broke my fucking heart." I took one of her hands and pressed it into my chest. "Tell me I'm lying, Maka. Take a look in there and tell me that you leaving didn't destroy me."

"You're… telling the truth." A wave of rage washed over me that she even bothered to read me. As if she couldn't just see it all over my face. Those green eyes had the nerve to keep tearing at me, trying to figure me out, "But I left because you-"

I tried to push her shoulders but there wasn't even enough strength in my fingers, those words draining every last bit out of me. "Because of what I said." I put a shaking hand to the back of my neck. "But you didn't even let me fix that. I was eighteen, Maka, an idiot kid who said something that you misconstrued because you wanted me to be just like your dad."

"You said it was no big deal. I asked you if we were changing, if we were going to be something and you said it was no big deal!" Now her voice was booming, her arms wrapped around herself as if to create some kind of steadiness after her outburst. "You basically said fucking me was no big deal and you're surprised that I took that as something Spirit would say? Are you serious?"

"I meant the change, us changing was no big deal," I hissed through my teeth. "But you took it the way you wanted because you were scared. It got too messy and you wanted out. Who does that sound like to you?"

"Don't you dare-"

The warning didn't sink in and I felt another growl growing in my throat, "If anyone was acting like him it was you!" Slapping her in the face would have hit softer, and I watched as her eyes blinked and watered in the face of my words. "If you had listened to me, if you had given me a chance, I would have told you…" I snapped my teeth shut, clenching my jaw against a wave of my own tears. "Forget it. There's no point now."

Her mouth opened but shut again quickly, the tears finally releasing and falling down her cheeks. By the time I wanted to move forward, to touch her, she was already turning from me, thundering through the door that she slammed behind her. I heard the second door to her room slam. Why does it feel like we keep playing the same parts over and over?

I waited for another two slams, one from her leaving her room and one from leaving the apartment but it was all silent. My knees felt weak so I collapsed back on the bed, still listening for her since I didn't dare reach out for her wavelength, not sure what I'd find. The only noise came from the nightlife outside the window, the sound of cars and people moving through the streets. I waited and waited but it was still just the night.

I guess I had fallen asleep like that, listening to the white noise of the world. When my eyes opened it was to the pitch darkness, the creak of my door. There was a little light from the hallway, probably second-hand from her own room, giving her just a halo glow. I blinked a few times, propping myself up until I could sit.

"Soul…"

"Yeah?" My voice was still gruff from sleep and the tears that already wanted to choke me at the sight of her. Maka looked as if she had cried for the hours I'd laid here asleep, her eyes ringed red and bruised from the late night. I glanced at the clock that blinked 4 AM back at me.

She sighed, clutching the door as if it were supporting all of her instead of her legs. "I don't want to fight."

"OK," I answered dumbly.

"I want to say…" she took another deep gulp of breath, "What I did was wrong."

"Today? I mean, yesterday?" I could have blamed it on still being half asleep, but I think it's better blamed on just my lack of sense in general.

"Well, yes, and when I left." Maka took another breath, pressing her hands to her eyes to stop a new flood of tears. "You deserved to have the chance to explain but I guess it felt easier to break my own heart than to let you break mine."

"I wasn't-" I stopped myself, again feeling the futility in clarifying the past.

"I'm sorry." A sob broke her voice and she moved her hands from her eyes to her mouth, forcing back the sound. "I'm so sorry."

I couldn't stay put and quickly came to my feet and moved across the room to her, letting a shaky arm wrap around her shoulders. "I'm sorry, too. Saying those things to you didn't help."

"It's not like I didn't deserve them." Her voice was almost lost as her cheek pressed into my shoulder, the tears soaking into my t-shirt. "So don't apologize."

"I was being mean for the sake of being mean. That wasn't very cool." Holding her felt so conflicting. I wanted so desperately to be angry with her but hurting her, having her hurt was something that I couldn't inflict or watch without feeling that need to soothe.

A short, breathy laugh from her mouth washed over my skin. "Still worrying about being cool?"

"Sometimes it feels like all I've got," my laugh was weak even in comparison with hers. I sighed with the next breath, my arm tightening around her shoulders, letting my cheek rest against her hair. This was dangerous, so enticing, and I hated how quickly my heart was giving in while my mind still screamed about the pain, the misery. I couldn't see the clock, the time we spent like this feeling innumerable.

"I hope you can forgive me." Her voice was small and her hand came up to my shoulder, flexing her fingers into the fabric, putting a welcome pressure on my skin.

"I'm trying." I was proud of my honesty, but not of the feelings that flooded in after that. I had to let her go, to pull myself from all that temptation.

There wasn't a hint of surprise on her face from the detachment, from my words. Instead, she nodded, biting her lip as she turned back to the door. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"No, it's better that you did." I had to resist the urge to grab her arm and instead forced myself a step back. "Just… get some rest, OK? You're not a hundred percent yet."

"OK." Maka took slow steps to the door, letting it creak closed softly behind her.

I may have slept, but after that moment I felt more exhausted than I ever had before.

* * *

The next day, oh, I don't know, was the tensest in existence? I mean, I had finally done exactly what I'd wanted to do since she came, to really let her have it, hadn't I? We couldn't argue when she was in a coma, but now that she's _fine _I could finally say all the things I wanted to. I should have just kept going, kept releasing all five years worth of angst and misery she put me through but I'd hugged her, told her to go to bed.

And when she woke up the next morning looking worse than the night before, all I wanted to do was pull her into my arms, carrying her back to bed and holding her there until she slept like she should, soundly and without interruption. Instead, I went through the motions. I made her breakfast, I spotted her as she tried to train a little, and tucked her back into bed when that just about tired her out. All without a word between the two of us other than what came out of necessity.

When Marie came at lunchtime, Ben in tow, I thanked every deity in existence because, boy, did I just need someone else to exist in our space for a while. Maybe I regretted that hope as soon as Marie spent more than the usual five seconds eyeing me. "Ben, go play with Maka."

"She's sleeping," I tried, but Ben was already padding down the hallway.

"Well, Ben will figure that out when he gets there." Marie shooed my legs off the couch, taking the space they'd left behind. "What happened?"

"What happened?" I raised an eyebrow inquisitively, letting my pulled in knees push me into more of a seated position against the arm of the couch.

You would expect someone with only one eye to have a stare that only did half as much, but sometimes it felt like Marie could see through even more with just the single showing. "Soul, what happened?"

Again, my name meant I couldn't get out of it. I was surprised she didn't somehow know my middle name and give me the full name, mom treatment. "Marie, I, uh… maybe talking with Maka would be more helpful. She needs it more than me, anyway, she was sick and-"

"Stop doing that." Marie's hand slapped against mine like I had been reaching in the cookie jar before dinner. "You may be five years older but this part of you hasn't changed at all. Your feelings exist, they happen, they're no less important than someone else's."

And fucking hell did my feelings exist. That was the problem, but I could barely let the next part squeak out, even under Marie's mom death glare. "I feel like nothing's changed in five years."

She sighed as her elbow planting into the top of the couch, her cheeked leaning against her palm. "Did you finally bring it up?"

"Bring what up?" Playing stupid wasn't going to work but I was going to try it anyway.

"About what you said, about, well, you know, after you two, well…" Any other situation and I would have teased Marie about letting Stein give Ben the talk when he was old enough because if she couldn't even say sex to a twenty-three-year-old she wasn't related to… but she _knew_?

"You _knew_?" I spat.

"I tried to be a mom to both of you, Maka before she left and you after she did." Marie had a much easier time saying that than the last sentence, but I had a harder time taking this one.

"She went to you? She told you?" This wasn't fair. I should have known this.

"She did, that morning after she'd already planned to leave." Marie's smile wavered. "And I tried, Soul, I did, I tried to tell her I thought it was a mistake but she was… well, she was heartbroken. You can't talk sense to someone heartbroken."

I couldn't control it, I didn't want to say it, but it refused to be jammed behind my teeth. "How the fuck could she be the one heartbroken? I loved her, Marie!"

"Loved?" The way she emphasized it I could practically feel the 'd' hit me in the face.

"I can't forgive her," I muttered as if that offered some answers.

Marie heaved a sigh and she squeezed her hand over mine. "I will never say what she did was right, but-"

"I know, Marie," my mouth still felt like it was full of venom. I tried to force my voice down but I knew I was being too loud, I knew I was risking it with her in the house but I was still babying that festering wound. "I know what she thought, hell, I knew she probably thought that the minute after I said it but I was stupid. I'm always stupid and that'll never change. If I forgive her, if I get her back, what'll stop her from doing the same thing again with the next idiotic thing I'm bound to say? Because if she leaves me again, Marie, I…"

But what I couldn't bear to say was even more of the truth, even if she left now, with us still out of whack, I wouldn't survive it either. For what felt like the millionth time this week, I sunk my head into my hands and cried. I never remembered crying this much, even as a kid, and I was starting to wonder if there would ever be an end to it. Or an end to the embarrassment since just as I manage to go full sob I heard footsteps, Maka's muted gasp.

"Oh, not Momma. Soul's crying." Ah, so it was another case of Ben had a feeling and he dragged Maka into it. Another one on the books for evidence that Ben deserves the best wingman award. "Soul, don't cry. Don't cry." He was instantly over to me, giving a signature Ben pat-on-the-back-that-fixes-everything.

"I'm fine," I muttered. I cleared my face with my hands as best I could before getting up quickly. "I'm going to make tea," sounded like all one word as I pushed past Maka to enter the hallway for the kitchen.

"Come sit down, Maka." I caught Marie saying as I reached the end of the hallway.

I stood silently, free of all of them, immobile in the emptiness of the kitchen. I let that last for at least a minute before I could push myself to actually make good on my claim. Counting the bubbles as the water came to a boil, I tried to forget that there was a decision in front of me. Regardless of what Marie had managed to dig out of me, I had to bury it back, didn't I? There wasn't a way to… The water was steaming and I used a rag to pick up the kettle since the handle never managed to stay at a reasonable temperature. The water swelled over the leaves, the pot filled to the brim in hopes that it would buy more time with company rather than by ourselves.

But by the time I got back in the living room, it didn't seem to matter if company was there or not. Maka didn't have eyes in the room for anyone but me and I could feel them following me as I went about pouring the tea and distributing the cups. I sat off to the side in the armchair, sighing as Ben didn't take it as a message to leave me be. He climbed into my lap, barely avoiding dousing us both in scalding tea.

Marie was talking to Maka quietly but I couldn't possibly hear with Ben so close to my face, his fingers pressing into my cheeks. "You're sad, Soul, why?"

"I swear, Ben, if you're trying to read my mind, quit it," I muttered.

"Everyone's sad," he huffed, flattening his fingers against my face. "You woke the princess. We should be happy."

"The princess woke herself," I corrected.

"You need to take the credit," Maka interjected weakly, testing the waters.

I was sure when I raised my eyes to hers it would be misery, but that small smile, the way she seemed nervous at the moment made me feel righted, not so lopsided.

Ben continued to massage into my face. "And you're all ruining Momma's happy stuff."

"Benjamin Stein, I swear," Marie clutched her cup a little tighter.

Ben turned to her, his eyes practically pleading, "But, Momma-"

"No." It was that forceful Mom 'no,' the one you knew would come right before the punishment.

"Marie, happy stuff?" I nudged the topic, knowing anything was better than where my other conversations were going.

"No, Soul, I will not divulge the secrets my son so willingly throws to the wind."

"I don't know, some more good news would help a lot right now," Maka added.

I couldn't stop myself from shooting a smile her way, the little bit of teamwork adding to that settled feeling. "Yeah, Ben said it. We're a depressed crowd. Lighten the mood, Momma."

Oh, how that 'Momma' made her eyes narrow. If looks could kill. "It's not the right time."

"I'm going to have a sister!" Ben practically screamed, his patience bursting after a whole five adult sentences, besides the 'no.'

"Benjamin!" Marie groaned, setting her tea back down hard on the table.

"Hey, that's great." I bounced Ben, only adding to his excitement.

"That's wonderful, Marie." Maka moved from the chair to embrace Marie awkwardly on the couch.

"It'd be wonderful if Ben could keep a secret." But Marie happily accepted Maka's hug. "And we don't know if it's a girl, Ben's just convinced."

"It is," Ben insisted. "And that means Soul can come back to live with us since we'll have a baby again."

"Ben," Marie chided again.

"I only did that for you, Ben. You were special." I tousled his hair.

Ben looked from the women on the couch back to me. "Maka could come, too!"

The painful words left my mouth without even a second thought, "Maka's not staying, buddy."

"Maka," Ben whined out, slipping from my lap to go over to her. "Maka, just live with us and Soul."

_Oh, damn it, Ben_. I couldn't stop it from echoing in my head, bringing back the sweeping emotions from before. I turned myself from the conversation, trying to make my hand obscure my face enough that if I started crying again I could at least save a little face.

"Benjamin…" Marie dropped her voice as she brought him closer to her, whispering things to him.

The room seemed filled with whispers but I was too intent on covering my face, keeping my emotions at bay. There was the movement of feet and I felt a soft hand on my knee.

"Soul, look at me," her voice was forceful, making my hand drop. We were alone, Marie and Ben gone, and she was kneeling at my feet. "Do you want me to go?"

"What?" The question made every nerve in my body fire and I was back to struggling at keeping the tears under control.

Her eyebrows furrowed and I saw her lip tremble. "I feel like I'm making you unhappy, I'm _hurting_ you and I need to know if you need me to go. I'll leave if-"

"No," I practically shouted. "No, please."

She pressed her lips together to stop the quivering, taking a deep breath before focusing her eyes back on me. "But I am, I'm hurting you."

"That doesn't mean I want you to leave. I don't think…" I sighed and ran my hand through my hair, my eyes focusing my arm to keep from her stare. She was trying, I had to see that, had to let it sink in, and I took a deep breath, my hands trembling at that lock. "I'm worried you'll go again. I know you… you have your life, Maka, but we… oh, damn it." My mind went veering off, my brain screaming there was no '_we_' and why wasn't I just throwing a fit, telling her how much she does hurt.

"I have a _job_," she corrected, that hand on my knee clenched. "I don't have a life out there. If you… if you want me to stay, I want to stay."

"Stay." I put my hand over over hers, leaving the other one sunken into my hair, my eyes closing to let a shaky breath try to calm me. She was silent, and after a few minutes, she pressed her cheek against her hand and mine on my knee. This movement was so small, but it felt like it was going forward instead of back, instead of stuck.

After what felt like forever, she sighed and lifted her head. "Let's watch a movie tonight."

I opened my eyes again, slowly focusing on her. Her smile wasn't even close to vibrant but it was there, it was genuine, it was bleeding into my heart. "As long as I get to pick."


	6. A White Lie

I usually never think about being quiet when entering the apartment because, hell, it is my own apartment, but when I could hear the voices from the doorway, I made sure to creep in. It definitely wasn't Marie and Ben because the voices were far from excited, more hissing and scraping tones. As I opened the door, Maka hit a high note, her voice was strained and shrill as if it were a marathon of screaming.

The second voice returned and stopped me in my tracks. Spirit. I had ultimately avoided Spirit like the plague after Maka left, but the few times we had crossed paths I had to use every form of restraint available not to punch him in the face. He always wore the look of a man who was not only gloating over a great victory but also was proven right in the best kind of way. I was no longer anywhere near his daughter and he had been correct all along about what a worthless loser I was.

Of course, I hadn't even asked why he wasn't around during Maka's rehab phase because I was so glad he wasn't. Thinking about it now, standing terrified in my own hallway, it made zero sense why he hadn't been there, hadn't even stopped by, and now I was wondering if anyone had told him at all. Hence maybe why he was screaming at Maka in her room. I could get it if I didn't tell him, but Kid? Stein?

I took one more step before thinking better of taking the sneaking route. I waited for a lull in the yelling at then shouted, "Hey, I'm home."

There was a beat of silence before Maka stuck her head out into the hallway, her face flushed red. "I'm sorry, just one more minute." She tried to smile for me but failed utterly, slamming the door behind her.

The voices were much lower but the intent was the same. I tried to tell myself to go about my business, to go straight to the shower and lock myself away in a place where this became not my problem. _Not my problem. Yeah, right._ I tossed my stuff in its usual place by the door and walked into the living room, seating myself slowly on the couch. I'd wait.

Maka was wrong, it wasn't just a minute but it wasn't that much longer before I heard the door creak and Spirit's stomping steps coming up the hallway. He stopped at the doorway, eyes focused on me, "You!"

"Absolutely not," Maka barked out of view. In a second she was rushing him out of the doorway, pushing him back on the path to the entrance.

I could hear the scuffle but I stayed where I was, just listening to the voices. "He's the last person-"

"I told you, I didn't ask for your opinion," Maka snapped.

There were only a few last soft objections before I heard the door shut and Maka blew out a huge breath. I still decided to wait. Her footsteps were slow, unsure, and when she finally came into view the smile on her lips was small and forced. "How was your day?"

I couldn't help but laugh at her. "Well, Spirit showed up at the apartment. That was interesting."

She let go of the sad attempt at a smile and sat down next to me with a huff. "You know he didn't have anything good to say."

I eased back, looking at her but knowing that she wouldn't meet my gaze, "Did he even know you were here?"

"No," she groaned. "When I left, I told Kid no contact with him and, well, you."

My face fell at the thought of myself in the same league as Spirit. "So you didn't think he was going to be a little angry about that?"

"Angry is an understatement." Her head hung in her hands, another sigh gracing her lips before she rubbed at her face. "And staying here really set him off."

"Yeah, he was really excited when you left me, that's for sure." The statement didn't hurt as much as I thought it would to say out loud, but the way that Maka looked at me after I said it made it sting.

She was staring at me then, her mouth tight and her eyes watery, threatening tears. "Did he say anything to you after I left?"

"Not really. I avoided him. When I did see him it was definitely a face full of gloating." I tried to smile at her, but it fell a little flat and I found myself reaching my hand out instead, taking one of hers that was fiddling nervously in her lap. "It doesn't matter, Maka."

"It does," she sighed out. "I feel like all I do is cause trouble for you."

"Yeah, since we were fourteen," I laughed, trying to push away the feelings that could come with that statement.

"Soul…" She grabbed my hand that was just resting on hers and squeezed. "Be honest with me."

"There's no point in bringing that stuff up, Maka." There it was, that safe little wall around myself, that piece I was hiding so carefully.

She stared at me for a moment, confusion washing over her face. "How do we fix this if we don't?"

A wave of anger came over me, ready to scream about what _this_ was, but looking in those eyes, feeling her skin against mine, the last thing I could do was yell. "You think you coming back was trouble?"

"Wasn't it?" Maka's voice trembled for a second. "Spirit said you were fine without me, that when I was gone you… that me coming here, being here is… am I being cruel? Selfish?"

"Don't let Spirit talk for me, OK?" I left those other questions unanswered, sure that they weren't for me to touch. "I've always…" I focused on her fingers, seeing the little scars and markings that I already had memorized. "It's better when you're here. That's why I asked you to stay. If it were trouble I would have asked you to go."

"Then, are we…" That scrap of a sentence hung in the air and both of us just stared as if it had tied both of our tongues. "We can be friends."

"I didn't think we stopped." This old Patsy Cline song started to play in my head. While she's not jazz, the 60s was a great decade for music and thus permanently drilled into my brain. But it haunted me with that melodic wonder: _I fall to pieces / Each time I see you again / I fall to pieces / How can I be just your friend?_

"No, I guess we didn't," Maka whispered weakly.

_Friends._ I cleared the thought out of my head while I cleared my throat, finally bringing my eyes back to her. "And real friends tell friends whether or not their unstable father is going to be coming back any time soon."

"You know Spirit. Give him time and he'll be here every day." Maka tried to salvage a smile. "But I did read him the riot act."

"I heard you," I laughed weakly. I needed this conversation to end so desperately, to pick apart that word _friend_ as the shower wore me down. "Next time I'll just hop in the shower, let you two fight it out without me. Speaking of, I think I'm going to-"

"Before you do," she cut me off, her fingers tightening around mine. "I wanted to talk to you about something but Spirit kind of, well, was Spirit."

"Yeah?" I didn't even know what it was but my heart was preemptively starting to pound.

Her lips moved as if she had so much to say but only managed one sentence, "Your birthday is next week."

I was ashamed that I didn't actually know if that was correct. When was the last time I even thought about that? I know Marie hunted the information down one year and made me a cake but I insisted after that nothing at all. The last person I celebrated with was, well, Maka. Only Maka. "It's June already?" was the most pathetic answer I could give.

"I wanted to take you out for your birthday," her words were slow, deliberate, and she swept her thumb over my knuckles as she said it.

"Oh," I winced at my way with words. "Sure."

"Great." There was a little bit of the Maka charm in her voice and I tried to tell myself that maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe we could be friends. Maybe I wouldn't fall to pieces.

* * *

As I was sinking in the couch, Maka closed her book, eyes focused on me. "Marie and Ben came by today."

Here was the small talk I usually tried to avoid but had made a promise to myself that I wouldn't. If I had asked her to stay, I should at least make staying easy. "You're going to steal my spot as best friend."

"Oh, no," Maka laughed. "Ben still only has eyes for you. Talked about you constantly. He's still convinced you'll come live with them."

I shrugged, "No thanks. Like I said, living there is like living someone else's life."

"When did you say that?" Maka blinked.

"When you were asleep," I answered automatically but as soon as the words filtered through my ears I realized how ridiculous it sounded.

"You mean when I was trapped?" Maka narrowed her eyes before shaking her head. "Soul, I remember the interrogation room in Belarus and then waking up to see your face. I don't even remember the resonance that Stein said you had to do to set me free."

"What?" My heart dropped into my stomach. All of it, every last bit of it, all the words I choked from my throat were just for me. "But you snapped me."

"Snapped you?" Her face just became more quizzical.

"Yeah, I said something you didn't like and I could swear that you flicked me behind the ear." Because she had, hadn't she? There was no way that a sleep-deprived, emotionally wrecked man could make this up.

The questioning in her face was starting to become concern and she edged towards the end of her seat as if she was about to get up. "I don't know, Soul, I don't think I was there. I know Stein said there were dreams, too, but I don't think that was me."

So she really didn't know a thing. She didn't know I missed her, that I was happy she was there, that I was hurting, that I loved her. None of it. I let out a shaky but substantial laugh. "I said a lot of things to you like that, Maka."

"I'm sorry." She bit her lip and I could see tears starting to form.

"No, it's OK," I laughed again as if that helped my case. "It's really OK. I just… I guess it's good to know. I guess I still have things to say to you."

"Like what?" her voice was softened with anxiety.

I wanted to be ready, to say it right there, but my tongue was thick and clumsy in my mouth. "Like about Ben. I liked it there, I really did, and I needed it but after three years it felt like I was living someone else's life."

Her eyes dodged away from me, concentrating on her fingers in her lap. "That's when I stopped writing to you, when you left Marie's house."

How I hadn't noticed that connection before was beyond me. She always sent letters to Marie's after she left and I assumed it was because she was using Marie as a proxy, not because she knew I was there. And when I moved back to the apartment, for the first few months I tried to blame it on the fact that the letters were being sent to Marie, not me. It wasn't until Marie had nothing to give me that I felt the loss. "Why?"

"Because I thought, maybe…" She sighed and pushed the strands of hair behind her ears. "I thought you didn't need me anymore, either. Maybe you would be better off if I just… left you alone."

Since the beginning of this, when she first came back, I had found myself so resistance to revisiting the past because what did it fix, nothing, but here it was, tying things together. "But you wanted to, you thought about writing to me?"

She seemed surprised by the question. "All the time," she whispered. "I even wanted to come back a couple of times, like when Ben was born but… I was selfish. I didn't think I could bear to see you being alright because I wasn't."

"I wasn't," I spat out, surprising myself with the honesty. "You could have come back at any time over the five years and I wasn't."

Maka stared, a hard swallow running down her throat. "Were you alright when I was sick?"

"No." I had started a leak and now it was threatening to burst. "I thought… I was sure I wasn't going to be able to ever talk to you again. When you were gone, I could still pretend, but I was afraid you weren't going to wake up."

It was hesitant, but there was a smile hiding on her face, her hands gripping anxiously into the fabric of her skirt. "You wanted to see me?"

"I wanted you to come home, but not in the way you did." I had to admit that I wanted to touch her. A part of me wanted to make sure she was real and this conversation wasn't in my head. "I always wanted you to come home."

Maka must have read me and I couldn't have cared less because she lifted herself up from the seat and joined me on the couch. I had to sit up, couldn't fathom letting her just lay there with me, but loved how she sat so close that our shoulders melting together. "I'm stubborn," she whispered, her hand drifting over mine.

"And I wasn't stubborn enough."

"I should have just come home."

"I should have asked you to." I felt dizzy and I was sure if I looked at her now I wouldn't be able to hold on anymore, that it would all come rushing out. So I was frozen, motionless, my hand clenching around hers.

Her breathing seemed like the only sound in the room and I tried to focus on it, the way it hitched to stop to speak but started again, her own insecurities reining in her words, just like mine. I squeezed her hand, preparing myself to look at her, to see what was on her face that she wasn't saying when the phone ringing cut through the apartment, sending a jolt through the two of us enough to separate.

Maka stood slowly but then found her footing, rushing to the phone. "Hello?" There was a pause, a tense laugh escaped her throat. "Yeah, of course." She turned then, licking her lips in that way that she used to always do when she was nervous like she was trying to push the words out of her own mouth. "No, no, it's fine. Really. I'll just… no, I'll see you then. OK, bye."

"Who was it?" Did it almost feel like jealousy? I'd had her mostly to myself, besides the few that came on a regular basis, and she seemed so anxious.

"Just Mira."

Yes, it was definitely jealousy. Especially after she thought she could lie to me and it wouldn't be written all over her face, even after all of these years. "OK." I stared at her, feeling that apathetic mask clinging to my features.

She took a step towards me but her face seemed to say she wanted to do the opposite. "Soul…"

"Yeah?" I was too quick to answer, my mind already writing over the fragile moment we had just seconds before.

Maka wrapped her arms around herself, taking another second to examine my face before sighing. "Tomorrow, we're still going out tomorrow, right?"

"If you want." That wasn't the answer she wanted, though.

"I do," she murmured. Maka waited another minute before sighing again and turning towards the hallway. I stayed on the couch, thinking about her hand in mine, all my lost words, and why she would ever tell me a lie.


	7. Happy Birthday

When Maka came walking down the hallway, when I looked up and caught the view of her still so fragile looking body in that curve-hugging black dress, I thought I might never be able to breathe again. While I had spent five years pining over her in that ridiculous, adolescent way, I'd also spent it wanting her and remembering the way her skin felt under my fingertips, the way her mouth tasted. I hadn't really let that want come to the surface; it hadn't surfaced while she was sleeping when my mind was too busy being wracked by the thoughts of her dying.

It wasn't until that moment that she brushed past me, her hand coming up to let her fingers delicately skim across the front of my shirt that I felt it beat in my chest like my heart itself. I loved her and I still wanted her, and _damn it_, she didn't know any of it. "You look beautiful," I blurted, instantly feeling the heat in my chest, my face.

"Thank you," her smile was ear to ear. She must have not heard the patheticness in my voice. "You should get changed, the reservation is at 6."

"Oh, yeah." I had come home from work and done my usual routine, shower, dress in pajamas, hit the couch, without even thinking about our date. _Date?_ Just using that word made me break out into a sweat even though that shouldn't even be the word I was using.

She was lying to me, after all. Of course, my mind had clung to that one small occurrence, ballooning it until it became the umbrella excuse. If she looked at me too long, her eyes searching my face? Why did it matter, she was lying to me. If she touched my hand, held it throughout the movie we watched, maybe even put her head on my shoulder? It must not mean anything because she was lying to me. Five years had made me too good at torturing myself.

But I had promised, and that resolution that I would make her living here easy pushed me back towards my bedroom to change, as asked. I don't think I had put on a presentable outfit in… maybe that number was better off not searched for, so the back of my closet it was. The problem with the back of the closet was that was teenage territory, clothes that ranged from fifteen to eighteen. While the norm is growth spurts early, I was one of those late bloomers and mine came on the cusp of my eighteen years, almost my nineteenth, a few months before Maka left.

I was always going to be thin and lanky, no amount of training could fix that, but my pants were about at least three inches too short. My shirt wasn't so bad, a little short in the sleeves which could be easily remedied by rolling them which made me look cooler anyway. I guess I had taken too many agonizing moments staring at my flood pants in the mirror and Maka knocked on the door. "Yeah?"

She peeked her head in, a knowing smile on her face. "Let me guess, doesn't fit?"

I grunted, displaying a sad looking leg to her.

"Here." Her hand appeared to toss a pair of pants at me.

I caught them, taking a look at the tag, the size spot on. "Where…?"

She eased the door open, moving into the room enough so I could see her shrug. "I guess I should have said Marie and Ben took me out yesterday. Shopping."

"They're my size."

"Duh," she laughed. "I remembered from before. I bought you a shirt, too, just in case."

"Give me that, too," I grumbled, holding onto a sour face until she turned back into the hallway. My pant size, my shirt size, remembering that, what did that mean? _It's just a detail, a small detail, and it doesn't matter because she's lying._

"Here," she chimed again, tossing the second piece of clothing.

"Thanks." Our eyes met and there was more to say between us but I didn't have the words, stopped behind that stupid word _lying_. Her eyes darted away and delicate pink rose on her cheeks before she disappeared again.

Maka had stayed simple, grey slacks with a white shirt, only one step up from the basic black. And they did fit perfectly, as if the details of my body were still on her mind, something that stirred that want in my chest, made it scream. _It's a detail, a small detail, and it doesn't matter because she's lying._

By the time I came out of the bedroom we were in Maka-rush mode. She herded me out, forcing me into the starting to feel like summer air to what I had hoped would be the bike, but she detoured me right past my beloved machine. Instead, we were walking, the perspiration starting on the back of my neck and small of my back that I blamed on the warmth but knew it was because of her hand in mine, urging me along.

We got to the restaurant at six on the dot. It was borderline bougie, something I might have never picked for myself, but regardless of atmosphere, Maka made clear that this pick was solely for the food. So while the talking might have not gone so smoothly, the eating certainly had. I found myself oddly content watching her eat, especially after the weeks of wasting away, bringing back memories of so many years dinners devoured like she had five stomachs.

But thank Death for bougie, because this place didn't stick a candle in my dessert, no myriad of waiters singing a non-copyright version of "Happy Birthday." When the waiter walked away after depositing desserts, she leaned in, her hand inching across the table to mine until she just touched my fingers. "Happy Birthday, Soul."

Something about it, the tone of her voice, the way her green eyes were soaking up the low light in the restaurant, the wisp of a smile on her lips, made me want to cry. It felt perfect in all of its imperfections, in all of my brokenness and hers. I let my hand stay there and she played with my fingertips until our plates were empty.

The night had taken the humidity out of the air and a breeze teased across my neck as soon as we hit the street. I was expecting the turn towards home but her hand once again dragged me further into the city. I wanted to question, wanted to pull her back and tell her I was done, but… no, all of that was a lie. What I was feeling was as far from that as possible because it was as if I was actually living again, not going through the motions of a day-to-day that required me to do just a little bit more than breathe.

"Where are we going?" It wasn't gruff or annoyed, a hopeful tinge that I'd forgotten existed in my tone of voice.

Her grin was huge in comparison to the past couple of weeks, a shining radiance starting to drift off of her soul, picking me up even more. "This part is a surprise."

My only reply was a short laugh that settled into a grin, that same toothy look I used to give her way too often, the one that I always thought told her I loved what she did to me. I wondered if that message came out clear because I could swear she'd turned away almost fast enough for me to miss the pink starting on her cheeks. Maybe it was my imagination.

We were slowing and the only thing in the vicinity was a divey old bar. Dilapidated would be a kind word to use for it but she pulled me towards the door barely staying on hinges and ushered me in first.

I didn't even have the time to sweep the room before Black Star's voice boomed in my ear. "My worshipper has arrived!" It was only a second later that his body connected with mine, an arm swinging around my neck as his beer threatened to soak my shirt.

"Who invited you?" I croaked, trying to detach that impossibly muscular arm.

"Maka, of course. There's no surprise party without Black Star." He hitched a finger at her, still smiling goofily in my face, missing the glare he was receiving from Maka.

As if time's never changed, Maka's chop connected hard with Black Star's skull, producing a resounding crack that really fed my soul. "Black Star, you idiot, you were supposed to yell, '_Surprise_!'"

"You don't tell me what to say!" Black Star growled before finally releasing me, squaring up to Maka.

My eyes flickered over that situation, knowing the outcome would be the same as it always was, and took in the rest of the bar. For the most part, it was all of E. , a wide array of people, some of which I hadn't seen in months, maybe even years. Of course at the word '_surprise_,' the rest of the bar seemed to finally take its cue, all eyes on me as the word echoed through the shady establishment.

I was about to turn tail and run, to be honest, since as someone who had taken up hermiting for the past five years the amount of faces was dizzying. Luckily, I quickly dissipated from being the center of attention since most of us had been torn to different corners of the Earth, and I definitely wasn't the only person here to celebrate seeing. It was less of a birthday and maybe something closer to a reunion, and it was all Maka's doing.

Black Star was laid out on the floor and I managed to grab her elbow, pulling her back out of the playful fray, feeling her body connect with my chest as she lost balance. That arm easily moved from her arm to her waist, righting her. "You did this?"

"Uh, yeah." When her head turned to face me it was a breath away and I couldn't bear to let her go.

"How did you…?"

"A lot of phone calls while you were at work," her smile was soft, hesitant, and I could feel her trying not to relax against me. "That idiot over there almost ruined it when he called last night. I know you saw through my Mira excuse but I really, really, really didn't want to ruin the surprise."

_She lied._ A white lie. A lie that was so stupid and pointless and in the end was simply just to benefit me. This was definitely not the place for it but I wanted to scream, to curse myself into oblivion for letting that drag me, drag _us_ down with it. "You should have known better. Just tell Tsubaki and she drags him." I could barely get the words out in my own self-loathing, but I started to feel the way her soul was reaching out for mine, the way her eyes were trying to read my face.

"That's the problem, I told her too soon and she ended up blabbing and," she motioned towards the twitching heap of Black Star on the floor. Maka turned slowly and I let the arm around her waist relax away but she didn't move from me, still just an inch or two separate. "Is this OK? Liz said you haven't been around much and-"

"It's perfect." I let my hand gently glide down her arm before moving past her, trying to get away from the pull of her soul that was still latching, searching and soothing. I was an idiot, again, what else is new, but at least this time I was lucky not to put it into words. At that moment, I couldn't be near her, couldn't see those looks on her face because there was no excuse now. I didn't have anything to mask those soft touches or the reassurance of her soul.

I let myself move through the room, greeting old friends and acquaintances with the same vigor, hoping that, at least on the outside, Maka was seeing a different me instead of the one she had been locked up with for the past month. I caught glimpses of her doing the same, usually laughing, smiling, but sometimes that comforting glow, a tear here and there.

A hand gripped my elbow, pulling me back into a booth that my ass found a hard seat in. "Hey!" I tried to save my beer but at least a gulp hit the table, the rest foaming a little at the toss.

"Hey, yourself," Liz cooed.

"And why does saying hi to you mean I have to break my tailbone? Can't you just call me over like a normal person?" I groaned, rubbing at my back before easing further into the seat.

She rolled her eyes, taking a disinterested sip in whatever fancy concoction she had in her martini glass. "You were too busy mooning at Maka again, I couldn't get your attention."

"I wasn't-"

"Please, please, please tell me we're not going back to the _will-they-won't-they_ routine. All of us were over that when you two were fifteen." Liz sounded playful but her eyes told me something different, a hardness that she usually reserved for when shit was getting tough in the field, not in the bar.

"I, uh," I took a long draft of my beer, trying to wash away the friction in my throat.

She polished off her drink. "Did she apologize yet? Did she kiss you? At least fuck you since I know you've been holding that spot for her since she left?"

"Fuck's sake, Liz," I groaned but didn't see any relenting in her eyes. "I kissed her and we fought. I said some shitty stuff, we both apologized. She apologized for… for back then."

Without warning her hand connected with the back of my head, clacking my teeth together. "None of that makes any sense. _You_ kissed _her_ but then said shitty stuff to her? She apologizes and you're, what? Still mad? Still mopey? What is it?"

"All of the above?" I offered weakly, earning another slap of her hand.

Liz huffed, that hand falling to my shoulder rather than assaulting me again. "You _love_ her, you giant moron. She would have packed her bags the minute she woke up if-"

"Don't, Liz." I could feel my eyes watering, my voice quivering desperately.

She pressed her lips together. "Everyone's tired of seeing you unhappy. We let it go on for way too long, we're shitty friends, honestly. So, please, cut yourself a break."

"I can't guarantee anything." I slid her hand off my shoulder. "But you're not shitty friends."

"Then, go get me another drink then you can save Maka before Ox bores her to death." She jutted her chin in the direction of Maka whose smile was decided strained, her hand clenched tightly around her drink.

I drained the rest of my beer in a few large gulps before heading back to the bar, ordering a fresh drink for Liz. I tried not to go back to my routine mooning, only having that one glance at Maka before the bar, but it was an itch I needed to scratch. Liz's drink in hand, I went back to the table to deposit it before turning quickly on my heels, beelining behind Ox and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Mind if I borrow her for a minute?" Ox acquiesced without a fight and Maka just about jumped onto my arm as I pulled her aside. "Get some air with me?"

"OK." Her fingers dug into the crux of my arm and I could feel the worry radiating off of her.

I didn't know what I was planning other than getting another feel of the night air. _Who am I kidding, I never have anything planned._ We made it outside unscathed to the front of the bar, only accompanied by random smokers and a couple trying to find privacy but not doing it very well. I grunted at the sight of them but couldn't really veer away, the other option of wafting in smoke not being very appealing.

"Are you sure you're OK?" Those fingers flexed again and I found myself peeling them away, taking her hand in mine.

"I told you, this is great. Just needed air." I fiddled with the pads of her fingers.

"But something's bothering you," Maka pressed.

"It's just weird for me, Maka." I let my back press against the wall, trying to detach from her hand but finding her following me, that hand gently coming to my chest as if we weren't allowed to break contact. "I distanced myself, I know I did, and it's not them. It's that I never felt good at being with people unless you were there. But I missed this, I did. Feels good. Feels different." I cleared my throat, trying to relax the wave of emotion that threatened to crack it. "Most of all, I missed you."

Her lips pressed tightly together, her eyes moving along the brick wall behind me. It was slow and quiet, the way the tears streamed down her face that I almost thought it was a trick of the light.

"Hey," I grabbed her and pulled her to my chest, feeling the drips instantly soak in my shirt. "Maybe I should be asking if you're OK? Is this too much? I can take you home. You're probably tired and-"

"No," her voice was trembling but still enough to order me around. "Just give me a minute."

"Yeah, sure." I ran my hands along her back, feeling a few more muted sobs rattle her. "It's a lot, Maka. Don't push yourself if you want to go."

I could barely hear her against my shoulder, her voice a whisper, "In a half an hour, take me home."

I held her for a tenth of that time, just smoothing that dress against her spine. After that, she slipped out of my arms, clearing her face with her back to me as if I wasn't supposed to see, didn't know she'd just soaked my shirt. I waited for her to finish and when she walked back into the bar I was right behind her, my hand just slipping away from the small of her back as she walked back towards the crowd.

* * *

The clock had just ticked over to 2:38 AM, the thirty-eighth time I'd watched the minute change since I gave up lying in bed and moved to sit at my desk. Two hours ago I had tucked her into bed, stealthily avoiding having to help her change, though from the couple of bangs during the process she probably had needed it. She had too much to drink, a compound problem of being a natural lightweight and still being underfed dooming her from the beginning. I didn't have enough, anywhere near enough to quell the storm of thoughts that was now consuming me.

Hurt was something I'd held on to for years now, groomed and fed so that it was healthy and strong in my heart, but I distinctly felt the first of its hunger pains. I loved her, I needed her, she was here, and I didn't want to do this anymore.

Twelve more minutes counted and I told myself at three I would just get up, abandon the thought of sleep, and quietly exist in the kitchen, starting coffee that wouldn't do anything but be bitter. I heaved a sigh and as if my breath was strong enough to shake the apartment I heard the floorboards creak, movement in the hallway. In a second, my door was moving on its hinges and Maka stood still in the frame. She wasn't wringing sleep from her eyes but looked just like me, as if snoozing was an unattainable dream.

"Bathroom's the other way," I joked with a laugh that tapered off as I saw the resolution on her face.

She took a step towards me into the room, her hands clenching into the fabric of her oversized t-shirt. "I love you."

The way I thought those words would feel after all that waiting was completely different. I was terrified for the first second, like those words were something I had misheard, that it couldn't possibly have come from her mouth. "You had too much to drink, Maka," it was a weak, pathetic excuse and it was what my mind wanted to believe, wanting to think it was impossible that my heart could have what it wanted.

"No," it was a defiant shout and she had to take a deep breath to regulate her volume for the next sentence. "I know it's not fair and I don't deserve to, but I need you to know that I've loved you since we were fifteen and all that stuff in between hasn't stopped it."

"Maka, you, you can't…"

My words in between meant nothing, a spring broken in her mouth. "And I know you said you were trying to forgive me, and I can see it, I can, but I can't keep pretending that it doesn't kill me not to touch you. All I want is to go back to before I left."

"I hurt you," I whispered.

"No, I hurt you," she was still forceful, halfway to shouting. "You have to stop taking responsibility for what _I_ did. I left, and that was me, and that ruined everything."

A delirious laugh escaped my mouth but it morphed into a sob, the tears suddenly springing from my eyes. It was a blessing I hadn't bothered to get up out of the chair because my legs turned to rubber, a mixture of relief and disbelief loosening all of the muscles I had held so tightly. I tried to hide my face in my hands but her body connected with me instead, allowing me to hug around her middle, my fingers digging into the fabric of her dress. My face burrowed against her, my gasping breaths hidden against her stomach.

Maka's hand ran through my hair, sweeping it from my face gently and with her other hand she started to clear the tears from my face. The tenderness only allowed for a fresh batch of bawling. "Please, Soul, please talk to me."

It took every ounce of control I had to sideline the next sob, "We can be even, I don't care."

"We're never going to be even," she whispered, "I still owe you so much."

"You only owe me those words." I tilted my head up, bleary eyes meeting hers. "Just, say it again."

"I love you," it was immediate, not skipping a beat, her hands both moving to cup my cheeks.

My legs finally came back to me and I pushed to my feet, hands grasping her to my chest and allowing me to press my cheek against her hair, that old lavender scent bringing a laugh forward rather than the receding sobs. I held her there, hands traveling the length of her back and shoulders, feeling the shape that was coming back to being Maka's after that sickly thinness.

I put my hands on her shoulders, pulling her away just far enough so I could run my hands up her neck to cradle her head. Maka didn't wait for me to pull her in, just pushing on her tiptoes so that her lips came to mine. Just like before, her body instantly relaxed against mine, her fingers loosening and drifting down my back. This was the only soothing I could ever need, her touch, her closeness, her soul enveloping my own as if to fill the cracks and dents.

Maka let go of my lips after one kiss but moved hers to plant them over my cheeks, along my jaw, hands moving to my shoulders to steady herself on tiptoe to reach my forehead. When her lips finally came back to mine it was a heartbreaking mix of my own salty tears and the sweetness of her mouth. I lingered over her lips for just another moment before inching back, watching as her eyelids fluttered dreamily. "Can we… is it too much if you sleep with me tonight?"

"It's just enough." My chest tightened as soon as her arms released me and I found myself stumbling after her to keep up, to keep contact as she slid into my bed.

There was no stiffness, no confusion as to the ordering, just Maka in her old spot, limbs ready to tangle in mine in an arrangement entirely our own. I was barely in the bed before her hands were reaching, sliding into the spots that felt like home. "Maka," it came like a sigh of satisfaction and she brought her eyes to mine, one of her hands moving to my face to touch my cheek. "You're sure?"

"You don't believe me?" Her laugh was small, short, a playful smile starting to pull at her lips.

"It's been years, Maka." I shouldn't be trying to be rational, to poke holes, and should just be giving in to the feeling of her body breathing against mine.

Her fingers on my cheek glided along my jaw. "And the minute I got home you go about sacrificing yourself to cover my mistake. Then, you protect my feelings by hiding yours. I'd say not a lot has changed, Soul." As her fingers rested on my chin she guided my lips to hers, hushing anymore complaint.

* * *

Her movement was enough to wake me and I felt my hands reflexively tightening around her, a laugh coming from her mouth. "You were dead asleep."

"Too early. Don't go," I mumbled, fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt.

"You don't even know what time it is." A feather light kiss touched my cheek before she began the work of prying my fingers away. "And I have to see Spirit or he'll come here. Unless you'd prefer…?"

"No," I groaned and finally relinquished my hold. "How long?"

"Most of the day, if he can manage it." I could hear her footsteps receding and opened an eye just big enough to see her walk out of my room, disappearing into the open door of her own.

"Spirit sucks." I clutched my pillow, a poor substitute for the warm body that just left me. Sleep was still thinly pulling at my mind when a sudden roll of panic, like deja vu, struck me. I have to admit I jumped out of the bed, frantically sliding across the hall and into her room.

She should have closed the door, especially since she was naked except for her panties, her nightshirt just slipping out of her fingers into the hamper. "Soul!"

I couldn't turn fast enough and the view made me feel faint. I had touched her just once, that one time, and like an idiot, I hadn't been really taken in the entirety of her as I should have and now she was naked, in the same room, and I had to force myself to stay turned. "Oh, shit, sorry!"

Maka's stifled laugh came from behind me. "You can… you could turn around, Soul."

_Oh, no,_ and that dizzying urge was coiling in my stomach. "I swear that's not why I came in here. But that doesn't mean I don't want to look, but I didn't purposefully, oh, fuck." My words jumbled into a groan before I felt her hands slide over my hips, drifting up my chest until she was squeezing herself against me, only my t-shirt separating us.

"Why'd you come running in then?" The playfulness in her voice was killing me and regardless of the stress my brain was under, my body was betraying me.

"Because I'm an idiot," I blurted.

That received an even heartier laugh, her chest trembling against my back. "Why do you think that?"

"Because last night," the words turned into a croak. My throat tightened up and I had to slip my hands over hers, feeling those fingers before I could continue. "I almost did it again, Maka. I didn't tell you I loved you last night."

"You didn't have to," she whispered.

"I _do_ have to." I gave up on the shame, the nervousness and started to turn, finding that her arms accommodated me. It wasn't about seeing the rest of her; I just needed the view of her green eyes, to watch her face as I said it. "I love you."

The smile on her face was the reward I was looking for, that achingly huge grin. "I know." Her fingers grazed the collar of my shirt, barely touching the skin. "You say it all the time."

I blinked at her, thinking maybe I hadn't woken up, maybe this was some strange dream. "What?"

"Sorry," she laughed, "I mean your soul does, all the time, just calling it when I touch your skin. It does feel nice to hear you say it, though."

"When we touch?" My shaking fingers grazed the bare skin of her sides, fanning out so my palms could join them to run the length of her back. I felt her goosebumps, the sharp intake of her breath.

"I didn't notice it until you told me to listen, when you said I broke your heart." She sighed wistfully, her head resting on my shoulder. "Could you do that again?"

There was no way in hell I wasn't going to do that again. "Do you hear it now?" My hands followed the lines of her shoulder blades before scooping back towards her spine, down to the line of the only clothing she had left.

"Loud and clear," she murmured. "This… I wish you could feel this. It makes all the trouble of soul perception worthwhile."

"I'm feeling pretty good without it." But I did wonder what it felt like to hear those words from someone's core, to feel them reverberate under your fingers. From the look on her face, it was blissful and a small blossom on pride was starting to grow in my chest. This was what I was capable of.

She patted my chest, another sigh sending warmth rippling across the front of my shirt. "I have to shower."

"I know." But I didn't release her and she didn't move, my fingers still tracing patterns on her back.

Her fingers teased down the front of my shirt, "Can I ask you for one more thing?"

I wanted her to ask me for a lot of things, my body pleading for the rights to touch her more, longer. "Of course."

"Will you tell me?" Her voice was soft and it was as if she were half asleep.

"About what?" I murmured.

As if slowly awakening from a dream, Maka lifted her head from my chest, her eyes slowly opening to meet mine. "When I get home, tell me about what I missed. All five years. Everything."

"I will," a laugh tumbled from my lips, free and easy.

"You promise?"

"Promise. Everything."


	8. Babe

Sorry for the really short update, I promise there's more to come. Just kind of got blocked on how fast I want our dear couple to go.

* * *

Training sounded like a good alternative to moping around the apartment while "Spirit sucks" remained on permanent play in my head. Seeing her naked, having the nerve to touch her in that state, had really added insult to injury and for a while, I had to go through the cycle of off-topic, cold shower thoughts to get my need to shut up. Usually, it only takes remembering Black Star naked, because Death knows we've all seen him streak at least once, but this temptation wasn't swatted so easily.

Kid was surprised, to say the least, that I initiated. After I became a Deathscythe, Maka used to train with us all the time, giving Kid pointers and making me feel comfortable with resonating with anyone else. I know I had that short-lived, disastrous session with Black Star, but other than that had never dreamed of being that close with anyone other than Maka. In a way, it felt like cheating, even though lame-ass me wasn't even in a relationship with her.

Practice was exhausting, especially since I'm fairly sure Kid wasn't taking it easy on me. Muscles I didn't even know I had ached and by the end, I was drenched in sweat. I wasn't even sure I could lift my water bottle, so as my ass hit the ground, back leaning against the wall of the training area, I sat there staring at it dumbly instead of taking a much-needed drink.

"How are you?" Kid didn't bother to slide to my level, just leaning against the wall as if posing.

"You beat me to shit, how do you think I am?" I grumbled. The water was too enticing so I risked it, dribbling only a little down my chin.

Kid let out an exasperated sigh, "I meant in general."

"Oh," I blinked up at him. "I assumed Liz just told you."

"In some colorful language, yes," Kid shrugged, "But we are friends as well and to be frank, you seem different."

"I guess." It was a weak offering and it hit Kid's grimace with an ineffectual thunk. "I think Maka and I are OK."

"What type of _OK_?" Kid spat the last word out with all the hate he had for generalities.

"Uh," I let the vowel hang. Girlfriend sounded childish, and we were in love, so wasn't that past that stage? And _in love_ sounded like the lamest phrase in the world. How do you qualify having the love of your life finally tell you she loves you back? "We're not fighting. We talk." _Oh, fucking brother._

The deadpan on his face was enough to tell me what I already knew: damn, I suck at words.

"We're together if that's what you're asking." Again, lame, but at least effective, not nausea-inducing.

He _hmphed_ before caressing his chin, thoughtfully looking at something across the court. "I want to start considering you two for missions again."

"What?" I thought we were just having one of those bro conversations, not the regular old boss to employee. And since when was Maka even well enough?

One of those ghostly hands tapped my shoulder. "I can see you're bristling, but Maka will eventually have to go out into the field again, but I think we both can admit she's safest with you."

"Damn right she is," I spat. I didn't like it for a second, but the reality was staring me in the face. No matter how much I loved her, we weren't just normal people. We'd have to fight, her life would have to be in danger again, but this time it would be with me. That old guard-dog grumble started in my chest. "But am I telling her this or you, boss?"

"I'll have Mira clear her for duty and then you'll start training here on a regular basis. After that, I'll make the final decision and inform both of you."

"But, telling her that we should be partners again, that's on me?" Those words charged a little excitement in me and as if I wasn't already amped to see her, I wanted to say those words to her face, ask her to be mine again in more ways than one.

Kid raised an eyebrow. "If you have the time. I assume you'll be busy with other things with her."

"Are you actually trying to insinuate something?" I laughed. "A solid attempt, Kid."

That elicited a snort.

I finished what I could from the water bottle and stretched my legs, feeling the muscles still resisting. "Speaking of which, I have _other things_ to do." I stood, patting Kid on the arm. "When you want to meet up again?"

"Again?" Kid smirked. "You are better."

"Yes, I get it, Maka's good for me, lesson learned." I tried to frown in his direction but the smirk elicited from her name pulled at my lips. "Let me know."

"Of course."

With a weak wave of my hand, I started making my way out of the yard and down to the entrance. There was still a smattering of students, my name being called once or twice, barely replied to with another wave of my hand. That thrilling knot was starting to curl in my stomach, the hope that she'd be home and I could just _love _her when I got there. The anticipation was overwhelming and I found myself rushing in every step home, whether it was the ride back on my bike or the walk up the stairs to the apartment. All of it was done at triple speed.

As I opened the door, there wasn't a sound, the unfortunate reality that I might have beaten her home hitting me hard in the chest. I walked slowly, eyes surveying each room for a sign of life. It wasn't until I got to mine that I found her, curled delicately in my bed, breath soft and slow as she dreamed in my bed. My heart just about crawled out of my chest and I had to clutch the doorframe, waiting for my breath to come back to me.

I was dirty, sweaty, disgusting, nowhere near acceptable to climb into bed with her so I glided silently back into the hallway to the bathroom. I undressed there, closing the door to make the shower as quiet as possible. I made it as quick as I could, doing what needed to be done and avoiding lingering in the warmth since I had hers to look forward to. I turned off the water, stepping out and starting the work that was drying my hair with the towel so that it wasn't making messy rivulets down my back.

Without really thinking about it I threw the towel around my waist and made the walk back to the bedroom. This was a miscalculation, or at least at the moment it felt like it, as I walked back in to see her eyes open, carefully watching the doorway. "Hey." She looked nothing like someone who had just been sleeping, her eyes too focused on me.

"Hi." I clutched the towel around my waist a little tighter. "I, uh, just give me a second." I went for my drawers, rummaging through for my boxer briefs, really anything I could find to cover myself. _She's seen you naked, idiot._ But it wasn't like that. I wasn't trying to push her as I had and this was the second time today it was looking like I was. My brain started feeding into that cyclical thought.

"It's OK," she murmured. "Do you need me to close my eyes?"

I turned my head back over my shoulder and she was smiling knowingly with lids shut tight. I yanked the towel off, draping it over the back of my desk chair before hooking a pair of briefs from the drawer and stepping into them. As I pulled them up to my waist I looked back at her again, her eyes no longer closed, that smile softening. "You peeked," it was supposed to be joking but shot out breathlessly, a burning coming to my cheeks at the thought.

"Come to bed." She pulled away the sheet and I noticed her own lack of clothing, the t-shirt riding up to show the curve of her hip, the subtle lace of her panties.

I felt my throat bob comically as I tried to swallow. _No pushing._ I repeated, moving slowly towards the bed until her hands pulled me the rest of the way, sinking into the sheets with her. "How was your dad?" I took a deep inhale of breath, trying to calm the way my skin instantly lit up under her fingers that seemed to crawl all over my bare torso.

"Tiring. I told him, about us."

I was almost lost in the dream of her touch until I processed those words, my hands pulling her just enough away to see her face. "What?"

"Lots of yelling, lots of threats, mostly directed towards you." One hand found its way to my face, caressing my cheek. "I wanted it over with, though. He'll take the longest to get used to it, so he should be the first to know."

"Maka, you…" I sighed. _You didn't have to_ was the words that wanted to drift off my tongue.

I didn't seem to have to say it, though, her eyes instantly narrowing at me. "Soul, this is it, isn't it? We're together?"

"If that's… if that's what you want." For all the warmth, the pressing need, my stomach started to falter, to tie itself into a knot at an offer that the realistic part of me knew would be taken but that irrational, still healing part feared an answer to.

Those green eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "What do you want?"

Honesty felt almost impossible, but the words slipped off my tongue, low in a pained whisper, "For you to love me, for you not to leave."

"I love you." She tilted her chin, catching my lips briefly. "I'm not going to leave again, ever."

I let out a trembling sigh, pulling her tightly to my chest, afraid I might squeeze all the air out of her but not being able to control myself. "You can't, OK? I need that to be the truth because I just, I can't do it again."

"You won't have to, I promise," the words drifted warmly against my neck.

I let each letter sink in, to settle into my heart and soothe as best they could. I held her, still tight and close, as I felt the minutes slink by, just concentrating on her breath. As soon as I felt like I could breathe again I let out more soft words, "I trained with Kid today. He said he wants you to start working again soon."

All of her muscles had relaxed until the last part of that sentence and she pried herself from my arms, looking at my face in almost a panic. "Soul, I told him I was staying. If he said to you that he was going to send me out again he's _wrong_."

"No, nothing like that." I smoothed a hand through her hair, hoping that the terror in her eyes would drain away with the sensation. "He wants you and me partnered again. Send _us_ out on missions."

"You'd… You'd be OK with that?" There was still some kind of hesitance in her eyes and I swept my hand deeper into her hair, fingers grazing her scalp.

"It's the best job for me," I murmured. "I've watched you almost die more times than I'd like to admit, but at least I was there to make sure it was almost. Last time I wasn't. I never want that again." I pulled her in and I couldn't stop the neediness from leaching into my lips, my kiss saying the words that I wasn't sure I could say. _I was made to protect you. I need to protect you._

Maka's body relaxed, taking the need and matching it with her own, her fingers gripping into the flesh of my back, pulling me tightly to her. "Soul…" my name was like a short gasp off her lips as I released her from the kiss.

At that moment, I felt dangerous as if I were about to leap off an edge again. "Let me take you out tonight," I whispered.

"Aren't you tired? From training and-"

"It doesn't matter." A second ago, I wasn't feeling too tired anyway, ready to swallow her whole, so I could manage this little nicety. "Last night I was… tight, scared, angry at myself. That's not how a date should be."

"A _date_?" The second word trailed off into a short laugh.

"Yeah, what kind of boyfriend am I if I don't take you on dates?" I pressed my forehead to hers, a deep breath saturating my lungs. "Before all the rest of it catches up with us, I just want us to have some regular time together."

"Boyfriend? Dates? Did you hit your head in training?" She pulled away, another short, soft laugh leaving her lips as her green eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Do you want a date or not?" I grumbled back.

"Yes, and I want you to call yourself my boyfriend again." That grin on her face was edging towards devious.

"Maybe later." I tried to frown but her damn warmth was contagious, a grin starting on my lips. "Saying it too much would make it mean less. Or, Death forbid, make it sound less cheesy."

Maka was edging closer on top of me, her leg slipping over mine to pull herself over me. "Or maybe we should have pet names!"

"Absolutely not." I faked a heave and shook my head, knowing this idea, even in jest, was the _worst_ but was definitely something she would do just for her own amusement. Next thing you know it would be _babe_ instead of Soul and Death help me, I almost half liked the thought of it.


	9. Dating

I really can't let go of the angst. I'm thinking it'll get brighter from here, but ?

* * *

Going out, in my head, was supposed to be different. I was supposed to no longer be nervous, sure in the fact that I was now somehow her boyfriend and we were in love. I tried to tell that to my gut but it kept churning, especially after she had forced me to separate from her, allowing for her to get ready behind a closed door.

Maka had insisted nothing fancy and I settled on what we do best together: movies. There was a double feature, some date night marketing attempt where you sat through an action flick followed by a romance. It was supposed to appeal to both sexes, but I assumed she would rip apart the inaccuracies of the explosions while I had a grand old time mocking the cheesy irrational lines from the stereotypical couple. Remember, in relationships, it's not always about loving things, but hating them together, too.

But we had to get past this part, the waiting, which in reality was only a solid twenty minutes but it was still long enough to create a desperation that I was in no way proud of. She finally emerged, half prancing from the room, a powder blue sundress that almost made her look like her old self again, though I could still see the ten pounds missing on her already small frame. Two thoughts fought in my mind: _she's so beautiful_, _when will she get totally better?_

My face was an open book because she came right to me, placing her hand on my chest as if to slow my heartbeat. "Are you ready?"

I picked up that hand, touching it to my lips, an action that seemed so alien but brought a gigantic smile to her face. "Bring a bag, a sweater."

Maka raised an eyebrow. "Sweater I get, but bag?"

I shook the plastic bag that I had filled at the store this morning before work, "We can't sneak in snacks without it."

Her eyes always sparkled at the mention of snacks but as her hand reached for it, I yanked the parcel away. "No peeking. Go get your stuff, let's go."

"You're mean," she groaned playfully as she disappeared back in her room. Maka returned with an oversized purse and sweater, opening it so I could deposit our treats before throwing the sweater on top as if the employees would actually be checking.

I always wondered how Maka navigated the bike with a dress or skirt and she seemed to have not forgotten how, wasting no time in latching on behind me. This was another first in years and the only way I could keep the wave of nostalgia from hitting me was to urge the bike forward, feeling her fingers clench around my waist. She didn't need to hold on that tight but she did anyway. As soon as we were moving, the exhilaration found me again. All of this was real. I was on a date with Maka. I didn't imagine the first one to be at twenty-four, but hell, better late than never.

There was no uncovering of our secret, Maka tightly clenching the bag the whole time as if the world knew or cared. Seats were plentiful, just a smattering of couples who probably had opted for the cool darkness instead of the June heat. I simply followed her, watching as she deliberated about the distance from the screen and aisle before sliding into a row. I wasn't sure if seating even mattered to me, more savoring the fact that I was doing this, that _we_ were doing this.

As soon as I sat down the purse thunked into my lap, Maka reaching in to retrieve her sweater but leaving the doling of snacks to me. I handed her the first course, some popcorn because you can't really watch a movie without it. I was just fishing out my own when I felt her head drop against my shoulder, her lips touching my neck just for a quick press before whispering, "Thank you." She withdrew before I could get a word in edgewise, or maybe steal a kiss, but it had done enough, throwing my stomach topsy-turvy.

The action movie was first, the quintessential eighties flick with a testosterone-saturated, muscle-bound lead destroying public and private property with zeal. It took time, but soon Maka was leaning into me, whispering quips here and there as I snorted out soft laughs. I swapped out her empty popcorn for one of the many chocolate variety candies, just handing whatever bag my fingers fell on in the dark. It didn't seem to matter because she munched away happily, her fingers flexing a _thank you_ into my hand.

Intermission came, both of us stretching legs and taking bathroom breaks. As she finally came back to her seat, me already lounging in mine, I felt her hand drift under my chin, pulling my attention to her face rather than the distracting dancing concession foods playing on the screen. Breathless is always the best way to describe how Maka leaves me, but the tender way her lips caught me by surprise, latching on to my bottom lip for an extra second as if not willing to let it go, left me sure my lungs would never get enough air again.

I let my fingers run through her hair, my eyes trying to focus on her face as her smile overwhelmed me. "This was the best idea," she beamed.

_I'm trying_ wanted to come out of my mouth but I just let that full-tooth grin spread across my face. She grasped my hand from her hair and tangled it in hers, giving it a squeeze as the lights dimmed again.

Nondescript romance has never been my favorite, nor was it ever Maka's. She would throw a romance once in a while into our movie night rotations, but it was always something complex, sappy with substance. So when I saw her eyes light up, her other hand clasping over mine as she saw the title, I knew I was in trouble.

See, teenage Soul could weather any storm when it came to emotionally tumultuous storylines.

Right-after-Maka-left Soul probably would have broken the DVD, or wouldn't have put himself in that situation to begin with.

Me, now, was bewildered by the fact I couldn't generate a single ounce of mockery. I tried to force myself to remain uninvested, unmoved by anything the bubbly heroine or brooding leading man could put forth. I might as well have been trying to stop an arterial bleed. I sat on tacks, uncomfortable in my skin as I watched my own feelings played out. The man on the screen was screaming _Don't leave me_ and it shriveled my gut, made every muscle tighten.

"Don't cry…" Her voice was soft, trying not to disturb me or the public space. I hadn't even noticed, the way they just seemed to spill from my eyes now with a will of their own, but her fingers on my cheeks were doing the best they could to clear it away.

"Sorry," I croaked. "I'm turning into a real fucking cry baby."

With a few more strokes she had gotten most of it. She risked another whisper, "You're getting soft in your old age." She grinned tentatively until my own smile caught on.

I leaned into her to avoid making too much noise, my lips next to her ear. "Be careful who you're calling old. Your birthday is next." She snorted, letting her head rest against mine, letting me catch my breath.

I had to tell myself over and over that it didn't matter what the ending was. Whatever way that couple ended up was not us and his fight wasn't exactly mine but when they kissed at the end, reunited, albeit drenched and cheesily kissing in the rain, I may have loosened one or two more tears. But that was all.

Maka was quick in hustling me out of the theater, struggling with the disrobing of her sweater as she led me out into the fading light of the lobby. Her sweater was off, tucked back into the bag that she had then taken from me, before she turned and looked a little too hard in my direction, eyes examining as if looking for a mark. "I was wrong," she finally said as we hit the street.

"About what?" I tried to slow down the walking speed as we were just about to the bike, a situation that usually cut conversation.

"You are different."

Anxiety gripped my throat. "Yeah?"

"It's not bad." Maka's face softened, a smile coming back. She slowed at the bike, turning to put that hand on my chest, a habit that I was getting used to savoring. "You used to keep everything in all the time. It was like cracking code to even get you to admit something was wrong let alone say what it was or what you wanted."

"And now I cry at the drop of a hat," I let out a sour laugh.

"I think that part will get better. That movie was a little too familiar in storyline." She pressed herself closer and I brought my arms around her waist, pulling her the rest of the way.

"I think…" I cleared my throat, my fingers letting out an anxious drum across her lower back. "I think if I had been like that before, this wouldn't have happened."

She frowned, her fingers clenching into the fabric of my shirt. "Soul, I told you not to blame-"

"No, Maka, you can have your fault in this but I was there, too." My eyes wanted to drift but I was trapped. "I was always good at telling you what I thought, but I did, I kept all of what I felt to myself. It was easier because I thought, well, I was pretty sure you didn't love me and telling you all that mess wasn't going to make you."

"I _did, do_ love you."

"Which makes it even more stupid, right?" Another weak drift of a laugh left my mouth. "So, I want to change. I want to tell you. I might not be any good at it for a while, but I want to."

"Soul…" Her hands came to my cheeks and she lessened the space between us, lips only meeting mine for a second. Before I could even breathe again she was slipping out of my arms, turning towards the bike. "Thank you."

"I don't know if you should be thanking me yet." But all she did was smile at me, killing any argument I had almost instantly. We got on the bike and I felt her melt into me again, making sure there was no distance between us. I didn't want it to end, the ride, the date, but as we walked up the stairs back to the apartment I had to remind myself that nothing was over, that I was doing things to bring us closer, and damn it, I was doing them well, right.

That night, as we lay together in bed, something that would always be the best part of my day, in a low voice I recounted year one. I knew it would be the hardest to tell, about locking a part of myself so tightly that it almost wasted away, died without her. I didn't shy away from the gory details - the crying, the couple of holes in the walls I'd had to repair, the fact that I had locked myself in the apartment for two weeks straight.

"Wait, two weeks?" Maka hadn't really interrupted at all, just short _hms_ or _uh-huhs_ and the sharpness of her voice almost made me jump.

"Uh, maybe closer to three," I murmured, not exactly knowing the timeline very well myself. "After the first week, it kind of blurred together until I woke up at Marie and Stein's."

"What do you mean you woke up?" She was propping herself up on her elbow now, looking down at my face. It was hard to meet her eyes and I found myself still half looking at the ceiling.

"I, uh, passed out." When my eyes did make it to hers there was this blazing intensity, a look that told me the finer details were not to be left out. "I wasn't eating, sleeping, stuff like that and I guess it had happened once or twice and the final time I didn't wake up here, I woke up at Marie's."

"Soul," my name came out as a frustrated whine as if I were antagonizing her. "You could have gotten seriously hurt, _died_."

I couldn't look at her now, my eyes reaching across the room to find something to focus on. "I know." I needed more air in my lungs, something to quell that old, painful stir in my chest. "You, you had a job, you know? Kid sent you off to do some kind of good and you could focus on that. I… fuck, it's lame, but you were my job, my world, not even just as the person I loved but my partner, my friend. And it was all gone. _Poof_. So, I know. I didn't care at that point."

I still couldn't bear to look but I felt her fingers tighten their grasp on me. "And I blamed me. I always blamed me, even when I tried to hate you and tell myself I deserved to be angry. _You_ walked out of _me_. _You_ refused to fix this. But it didn't matter. I couldn't get past who broke it in the first place and that was me and I…" Swallowing was painful, a lump of self-loathing blocking any attempt. "I wanted it to be over."

That was the last little piece, the piece that no one had ever gotten me to say before. Even after Marie and Stein took me in, poked and prodded and tried to find out what I had been trying to do, or what I was capable of doing. Even when Kid had confronted me, I told him it had all just been a mistake and I was fine, that I would be fine without her. Truthfully, after that, I had made sure I was fine enough on the outside that no one bothered me.

There was no more choice in avoiding her eyes, her hand coming to my chin to force it. When our lips met I could feel hers tremble, taste the salt on them, feel the wet transfer from her cheeks. "That was so stupid," her voice cracked, a sob warbling the end of her sentence.

"Melodramatic, too." I brought my hands up to her face, starting to clear the tears. "Killing yourself over a girl, seriously uncool."

She sobbed again, her hand turning to a fist on my chest. "Don't joke."

"I have to," I murmured back, planting another kiss on her lips. "I need to get past that. You know it now, you'll cry about it now but never again, OK?"

"How could I…?" The words broke off as she slid her face to hide against my neck, a hot streak of tears transferred from her and ran against my skin, sinking into the pillow.

"Because it's over. I don't want you to hurt about it. I just wanted you to know it." I let my hands run down her back, lifting the fabric of her shirt so my palms could touch her skin. I let them say _I love you_ across her skin. I waited until her breaths became steady, the liquid no longer pattering against my neck. "I need you to tell me something."

She angled her head so it was a whisper in my ear. "What?"

I made sure to plant my hands steady against her, "I need to know exactly why you left. When we fought you said, well, it was what I said, I know, but I need to hear what you were thinking, please."

Maka was silent, her breath slow, a finger tracing a line along where the skin met my shirt at my neck. "I did, I took what you said the way I wanted to, but… It's not an excuse, but I've watched love fall apart. People who I thought loved each other so much, devoted and tied together, dissolve into nothing and then disappear."

She lifted her tear-stained face, looking me in the eye but still whispering as if it were too much to say out loud. "When we were friends, I never felt like you'd ever leave me and I could keep that forever, I didn't have to worry about that disintegrating. That's why I never, I could never tell you that I wanted more. That night when you, when we had sex, I was sure it was ruined. Being in love meant it could end and I couldn't… I had to control the ending."

"How… Maka, how is it different now?" My grip still tightened as she was going to run away now, repeat the past.

"I know I can't control anything," she let out a shaky laugh. "When I think about how much hurt I created trying to control this, hurt for you and for me, I realize how pointless it was. I know," her voice crumbled under the strain of a stray sob. She pressed her hand to her mouth for a moment, taking a deep breath behind her fingers. "I know that if this would ever come to an end it would be because we both decided it because that's how we always did everything before. It would never come sudden, it wouldn't be cheating or anger or fighting. If we ended it would hurt, but it wouldn't rip us apart like this did."

"Which means…" I wanted to finish that thought but the need to kiss her, to comfort overpowered, forcing me to spread a few soft kisses across her lips and face. "Everything from now on is the two of us, right?"

"Right. Soul, I'm so sorry," Maka lost the fight to tears again, her body trembling against me.

"Sh, don't do that." I pulled her back to my chest, letting the tears soak into the front of my t-shirt. "We don't need sorrys anymore."


	10. A Question

Shorter update, please enjoy!

* * *

Ben was balanced on my lap, fully taking advantage of the _take-your-child-to-work_ day. Of course, he was acting more like my child than Marie's and Stein's, following me from room to room, now distracting me from whatever work I thought I was going to do in the teacher's lounge. As if I ever did work here in the first place.

The door clacked and I didn't bother to look, more focused on the scribbles Ben was making on the paper in front of me. "There you are," Marie cooed.

"Ben, go with mom," I murmured, trying to scoot him off my lap.

"No," was the elongated protest, tiny little hands clasping into my shirt.

"You can't monopolize Soul's time, Benny." Marie's voice was sweet, reassuring, but she still pulled him from me. Ben didn't exactly cry, but there was a distinct whine that he saved for just these kinds of occasions, a shrill, mewling sound.

"I want to be with Soul." I have to admit the desperation there was gut-wrenching and I was just about to reach for him again when the door sounded a second time.

The look on Spirit's face was a new one, not an emotion that I could actually read. I was about to start, to say something, but Marie stepped all over the moment, plopping Ben back in my lap in the process. "What are you doing here?" It wasn't necessarily hostile, but boy, was it a gentle kind of threat.

"I teach here, Marie," Spirit blinked at her.

"Then shouldn't you be doing that?" She was bristling, her arms crossing her chest before taking a step to almost obscure my view of him.

His hands flew up in mocked innocent with a hint of exasperation. "Damn it, Marie, I just wanted to have a word with the kid-"

"Then you can do that at the apartment like a normal person instead of cornering him at work," she snapped. "Unless you're too afraid of your own daughter standing up for him?"

Smoke was coming from Spirit's ears but you could see him slowing to think, planning each word. I cleared my throat instead, standing so I could reach Marie's hand. "It's alright, Marie."

"No, it's not, he's…" but a squeeze of my hand forced her to trial off.

I knelt down, coming face to face with Ben. "Go with mom, OK? And then maybe next week you can have a sleepover at my house. You, me, Maka. Sound good?"

"Yes!" He was back to being all smiles and giggles, gladly going to his mother with that solid offer on the table.

Marie shot me a look, one of those that she'd used on Ben too many times to count: _Be careful._ She slowly walked past Spirit, almost bumping shoulders with him as she glared.

"Bye, Marie," Spirit had to add just as she'd gotten past him.

Maybe Marie snorted a reply, but it was barely audible, the slam of the door behind her the only real sound she offered.

I sat back in the chair, not wanting to give myself the option to move closer to him and hoping to quell any physical reaction. "So?" I planted my hands on my knees, clenching them to stay there.

His hands jammed into his pocket, looking back to the door. Marie's shadow was still looming there, a little bit of black against the frosted glass. She was waiting. "You're still close to that kid, huh?"

"Yeah." We took a deep breath in sync, staring at each other. I could only let the silence creep for a few minutes, tapping my fingers to keep my sanity, until I could manage to get the words out, "Look, Spirit, I'm sorry I didn't tell you she was back. I honestly didn't know you didn't know."

Spirit cleared his throat, "I know that part. I freaked out on Stein and he let me know the whole situation, hence Marie, well, being Marie."

"She's also a little overprotective." It wasn't a complaint, though, and I found myself smiling a little in spite of it all. For someone who was rarely treated as a kid, Marie's smothering really did something for me. "And, uh, I know Maka told you. Not exactly what but I can guess the gist of it."

"She told me you two were together and I had to get over it." He took a step closer and one hand came out of his pocket, moving to point at me but thinking better of it and instead coming back to brush back his hair. "Thank you."

"What?" That wasn't a word that existed in the vocabulary between the two of us.

His hands didn't seem to fit in his pockets and he began trying to find another place to put them, settling for now on crossing his arms before sitting on the edge of one of the teachers' desks. "For saving her from that curse or whatever it was. Stein said… she would have died without you, I know that."

"OK," I blinked, still stupified by the progression of this conversation.

"I know it was only because you put yourself in danger, too." I didn't interject, just nodded. I wasn't even sure he needed me to be there, the words just spilling. "And, second, I guess I should apologize." A grimace spreading across his face as if the words had a sour taste. "When Maka left I should have been more supportive for you, like Stein and Marie."

I pinched at my leg, trying to call myself back to reality. "Support me? Why the hell would you do that? You were happy Maka left me." That old heat was coming back to my tone and I could see Spirit struggling to stop himself from latching on to it.

He took a long, deep breath. "I'm not proud of it, but I was. I can't really rationalize it other than just that I love my daughter and I want what's best for her. Even if that want blinds me to what's going on."

"As if you knew any of what was going on," I shot back.

Spirit threw up his hands, his voice soft and slow, "I don't want to fight."

I forced myself to take a breath, letting my fingers flex and relax into my leg. I was sure there would be some marks there later. "Then why are you here?"

"Because regardless of what I did or didn't do, I am willing to try to…" His words left him, that hand coming to his hair again as if it would kick-start his brain. "We should try to get along, you and me."

"Get along?" My voice raised, the confusion really twisting the question mark on that one.

"You're not a kid anymore, neither is Maka and no matter what I think, you're it for her," Spirit huffed. "My only choice if she's even going to speak to me again is for you and me to work it out and I'm trying."

_Oh, boy, if this is what trying looks like_… but I almost laughed, my hand coming to my face to hide the mostly amused smile. "Alright, Spirit."

"So, we're…?"

"Nowhere near good, but I'll try. We're trying." I stood up slowly and extended a hand to him, watching as he eyed it. When my hand didn't turn into anything other than the bridge it was, Spirit took it and shook slowly. "For what it's worth, I love her."

"Look, I'm not stupid," Spirit sighed. "You've loved her forever. I'm just glad she realizes what she did to you was wrong."

The insinuation of Maka being wrong was enough to make me believe that maybe he wasn't full of shit, that maybe he was actually going to try. "But that's over. She and I talked that out."

His lips made a thin line that he tried to force into a smile. It barely worked. "Look, just… take care of her, and make sure she takes care of you."

"OK." He finally released my hand and I considered pinching myself, still feeling lost in this strange moment. "If you… don't worry about coming by the apartment. I mean, call first, or something, but you should come by. Maka's not one hundred percent yet and it might help."

"Alright." Spirit eyed me for another minute and when I didn't offer anything else he started to turn, hands jammed back in his pockets. I didn't have the urge to stop him, but for once I didn't have the want for him to really be gone either.

* * *

"Maka," I groaned from the bed. "Come on."

"I'm almost ready," she laughed through her own exasperation. But the sink finally shut off and I could hear her footsteps starting down the hall.

Year Two, which we had gotten through over the past two nights, had been a breeze to talk about since most of it was tales of Ben. Maka wanted to know every last detail, searching through my memory for the beginnings of the boy that she had desperately wanted to see grow. Some guilt had sprung from that like I had kept her from him, but she squashed it easily.

She told me parallelly timed stories of dealings with witches and meisters alike, a short partnership with a demon weapon, a girl, that still somehow sparked that feeling of jealousy in me. The small comfort was that it hadn't lasted so long, that she hadn't felt right about it.

Tonight was the start of Year Three which I was supposed would simply be more Ben adventures, only moderately spiced up by the depressing fact that it was the year I managed to pack what was left of her stuff here away. Unpacking it had been enough catharsis, though, so I expected little to no tears in this evening's rendition of _The Life of Soul_.

For all of her delaying in the bathroom, Maka was in a rush to get out of the room, pulling me from where I had collapsed from boredom on the bed. She practically dragged me from the apartment, the air humid even in the deadening, setting sun. Today's sundress was lavender, and as we walked I noticed it was far shorter than the others, her long legs drawing in my eyes. We were just walking down to a hole in the wall bar, another date night to make up for the thousands missed over five years. "How was your day?"

I tapped a finger against her hand in mine with each thing on the list. "Students, Kid, set that date with Ben."

Maka's grin was ear to ear. "Oh, the sleepover?"

"I can't believe Marie's allowing it, but yeah." I know I shouldn't have expected any push back from Marie, especially since it meant she and Stein might get some alone time before baby number two, but the responsibility felt strange. "Which means tomorrow night you'll have two terrors in the house."

"With my only other option an escape to Spirit's, I think I'll take my chances with you monsters." Maka stopped at the door of the bar. "And of course Marie let you have Ben. You're great with him."

"Hard to believe, huh?" I opened the door for her, using my hand at the small of her back to usher her in. It was a tiny, long room, most of it comprised of a sleek, black bar. Little tables barely illuminated with tealight candles dotted the rest of the space. "What do you want to drink?"

Maka pondered for a moment before answering, "Gin and tonic." I gave her a sour face but she just smiled, walking past me to one of the tables against the wall. I ordered for us, getting a beer for me, before coming back to the table, depositing her drink in front of her. "I don't think it's hard to believe."

"What?" I slid into the chair across from her, feeling her fingers run over my hand on the table.

"You being good with Ben." Her smile was oozing warmth and I let myself bask in it until she brought the drink to her lips, obscuring it. "You're always good to the people you love."

I hesitated, turning my hand over so I could grab at hers. "I hope so."

Maka wouldn't allow it, shaking her head softly. "I know so."

I drank down a gulp, watching her eyes soften, and I knew she was trying to soothe me, a reaction she'd started to have every time I said a comment even slightly self-deprecating. "Are you ready for the next installment?"

"Yup, more of the Ben years!" She chimed, resting herself back in the chair as if curling with a good book rather than my voice.

I started with the bad: the packing, the aching decision of whether or not to give up the apartment altogether, the still ever-present feeling of missing her. Then the good: Ben, Marie, Stein. The way those three had stacked into my life would have seemed impossible to fifteen-year-old me, but there they were, almost intrinsically a part of me.

By the time the story was coming to a close, Maka and I were already halfway through our second drinks. "But you moved back to the apartment by the end of that year?"

"I did." We were encroaching on Year Four, which, while better than Year One, was another desolate year, a downstep from the Ben Years.

"Why did you go back?" Maka's smile shrunk as her hand seemed to tighten around mine.

My eyebrows furrowed, "I told you, I felt like I was living someone else's life."

"But…" It was like she was choosing her words carefully. "Did you have a new life at the apartment?"

The question derailed me, my mind stuttered to a stop without an answer. The answer seemed obvious, right? _No, I didn't_, so why ask? "I… went back to old me. Just did a better job of not giving people a reason to worry. Fed myself, slept enough, kept clean, but no, no new life."

"You weren't…" Again, careful work at arranging her thoughts and words. It seemed too taxing and she sighed, taking a long sip as if that would clear the words from her mouth.

"Look, Maka, just say it," the words sounded bitter but I punctuated it with a squeeze of her hand. "I mean, whatever it is, it's OK to ask."

"No, it's not," she murmured, the smile finally gone for her lips. She tried to play with her straw, but I tugged at her hand again.

"If it's not I'll tell you to fuck off," I offered playfully.

Her eyes rolled. "Soul…"

"Or I could throw the rest of my beer in your face? Seems like a waste though." To prove the point, I drank down the rest. "Look, I'm going to get up, get one more round, and when I come back you better get the rest of the nerve to ask." I wasn't one to make idle threats, so I got up, going back to the bar without a second look at her. I could most definitely feel her watching me though, but by the time I sat back down, her eyes were much more interested in the drink she'd almost drained.

I replaced it with a new one and she took a tentative sip. "I…" she sighed, stopping herself again.

Obviously, I can be pretty oblivious, had been for years, but her anxiety was starting to click with me, the line of questioning almost falling into place. "Was I with somebody else?"

Every muscle in her body tensing was the only reply.

"Just say it, Maka." I took another sip of my beer, waiting. I couldn't say I was unbothered since maybe that wasn't a question she deserved to ask, but it was a question that I knew she needed the answer to.

Her muscles were still tight, her lips barely moving. "I always thought you'd find somebody else and when I heard you'd moved back to the apartment…"

"Heard from who?"

"Marie," she sighed. "But it's not like she said anything to insinuate that just… I made it up in my mind that you had to have found somebody."

Even if she didn't have the nerve to ask the question, I couldn't stop myself from it. "Did you?"

"No!" She instantly shot back at me, her body finally moving from its rigid posture to reach across the table for me.

I gave my hand to her, letting her cradle it again. "A definite no?"

"Of course it's a no," and her voice almost sounded like pleading. "Soul, please, I know I shouldn't ask, but…"

"It's a definite no." The laugh that escaped my lips was short, small. "It'll sound lame, but the only person I'll ever be with is you, Maka. That's all I've ever wanted." Her other hand slipped from her drink to cover her mouth. I could see her eyes watering and I squeezed her hand. "It's OK that you wanted to know that, I'm not mad."

Maka shook her head, still silently trying to push away the emotions that were swarming her face.

"Don't tell me you're becoming a cry baby, too."

She shook her head again, a shaky smile finally cracking behind the wall of her fingers. "You're the cry baby," her reply was almost playful, her hand finally falling from her face back to her drink.

"Still reigning champion," I muttered, taking another gulp of beer.

Maka took another drink, her eyes finally coming back to my face but her lips only just holding onto her smile. "I'm sorry."

"I told you, I'm not mad. No sorries needed." I wondered for a moment if I should be, but what was the point? I was trying not to waste the energy on that anymore, to keep myself from being that Year One Soul that would perseverate on every horrible detail.

"Soul…" I was ready for more of an argument out of her, another sorry, but her smile crept back instead, a little color rising in her cheeks. "All I ever wanted was you, too."


	11. Happily Ever After

Much to my surprise, and maybe a little bit to my dismay, Maka and Ben spent most of the evening as best buds, leaving me mostly as a third wheel. I did the grown-up stuff, cooking them dinner, cleaning up the mess, and sometimes setting needed boundaries as the two of them acted as thick as thieves. To make matters worse, there was an awful lot of whispering, looking my way, whispering again, giggles. Again, thick as thieves and bordering on driving me crazy.

It wasn't until bedtime, something that Maka thankfully hadn't tried to delay when Ben would have nothing else but my undivided attention. He scrambled into my arms, tucking his entire little body against mine. "It's too early."

"No, it's too late," I murmured back. I stood up, sending a smile to Maka before carrying him out of the living room where they'd been playing.

"But I only got to have fun with Maka," he griped.

"I noticed." I laughed as he seemed resistant to the idea of me putting him down as we entered the bathroom. "Brush your teeth." Even as I let go, he clung like the little monkey he was. "Benjamin."

"I don't want to," he muttered, finally slipping down my legs to stand on his own two feet.

I shrugged and simply handed him his toothbrush with a tiny dollop of toothpaste. It was a staring contest, one which Ben had no hopes of winning but he put in a good effort. Within a few minutes he was brushing away, eyes still glaring at me for the cruelty of it all. When he was done I lifted him a little, helping him to reach an appropriate height at the sink.

"I like Maka." He commented as I scooted him out of the bathroom towards Maka's room.

I didn't have much to offer back besides, "Good."

"You love Maka."

"Yes," I couldn't keep the quizzical element from my tone. I was almost sure Ben was done on this strange line of thought when we got to the bedroom. He was quiet up until I tucked him into Maka's bed.

"Then, she'll be the next one to have a baby." It was so matter-of-fact that I found the laugh that I thought I'd give in reply shrivel.

"How do you figure that?" I managed to squeak back.

Ben seemed annoyed by my lack of comprehension of this issue. "Mama says you love each other and then there's a baby."

My instincts were to tell him there might be a few more steps, but Death knows I didn't want to get into that kind of conversation right before bed. "Maka, uh, well," nope, no clear thoughts, excuses were coming to save the day here. "Maybe, Ben."

My little teacher patted my hand, continuing his lesson. "But that's how it happens, Soul."

I could laugh now, and I had to cover my mouth to lessen his looks of disapproval. "OK, Ben, yes, but how about you stop trying to stall bedtime?"

"I'm not tired," he shot back.

"You definitely are." I tucked the sheets under his chin and around the sides of his body, making a little cocoon.

"I need a story," he murmured.

"Alright." I lay down next to him and he turned to be face to face with me. In a quiet, low voice I told him some pieced together tale, sans most of the violence, about one of our early trips to Egypt, where a witch was masquerading as a sphinx cat. In the end, the heroes were victorious and Ben's eyes were safely closed. I did a little extra tucking before slipping out of the bed.

As I turned to the door, I saw Maka standing there, leaning against the frame. Without a word, she turned back into the hallway and I moved to follow her. She was quiet until I finally cornered her in the kitchen as she turned off the kettle that was already steaming. "Tea?"

"Sure." I sat at the island, noticing the two cups already out, the pot in the middle. She poured the hot water over and the floral, lemony scent of chamomile hit my nose. I leaned forward to lessen the space between us. "You have fun tonight?"

"I did." She dumped the rest of the hot water into the sink before returning the kettle to its spot. She turned back to me and met me halfway, her lips brushing against mine before focusing on the teapot. "It was a good idea to have him over."

"Yeah, but next time you can't hog him," I laughed.

Her smile was dreamy as she leaned back, a fingertip playing with the teapot lid. "I'll try. You just seem so happy with him that I wanted to see what it was like."

"I guess I'll forgive it, this time." I pushed her finger off the lid before pouring the tea, the amber liquid steaming in each glass.

"I want you to know…" I looked up from my glass and found her eyes intent on me, her hand slipping into the one that just relinquished the teapot. "I told you I'm not going anywhere, but it's more than not leaving you, Soul. I want you to know that I think about that kind of stuff with you. I want that kind of future with you."

My throat clicked through a swallow, my mouth unable to form a word.

"I know not right away," she shook her head but brought her eyes right back to me. "I mean, we're not even, well, we haven't even…" Maka paused for a deep, shaky breath. "I want you to know I want to move forward. We can go at whatever speed you want, I know you're still hurt and still trying, but that's the end result I want, OK?"

"You mean," I wanted to tread lightly but my heart wouldn't even allow it. "Like us… you'd want to have a kid? Get married?"

"Eventually, when we're both ready and… when things are right, Soul, yes." Keeping her smile seemed like a battle, but she was still forcing herself to look me in the eyes. "Tonight, with Ben, just watching you tuck him in it was so… it was such a wonderful surprise, and I feel like I've been getting all of those from you but I can't, I haven't done anything to make you feel the same way. I want to start." She laughed softly, her other hand coming to her face to catch a tear from her eye. "I'm not sure telling you that I thought about us having a kid is the right kind of surprise, but…"

"It's fine," I murmured, lost in a daze. A few months ago, this was all some kind of pipedream, fantasy wishes that Maka would come home and we'd start all over. Now, this. We could have any kind of future we wanted, and she wanted that kind of future. The kind where we were so deeply intertwined that there was no going back. And her talking about marriage and kids after her parents… I had to look at my hands for a bit, feeling dizzy just looking at her eyes.

"And I guess, I was also thinking that we could, well," her voice stalled again and I watched her hand go to her tea, bringing it to her lips. "I guess I'm ready to take a step, Soul."

"Get married?" I spat out, my eyes widening.

"No," she shot back, bringing her cup clattering back to the table. "That's, not yet, I wouldn't even expect after what I did…" She sighed, bringing her hands to her face, trying to hide while she formulated the words. Maka's cheeks were hot pink as her hands slipped away, holding herself up under the chin. "Last time we didn't talk about it and it just happened. I guess I wanted to see if we were ready."

I blame it on the daze from our conversation, but none of the words were clicking in my mind. "What?"

Another wave of color hit her cheeks. "Our physical relationship."

_The sex!_ My mind screamed but luckily my mouth filtered, my throat closing until I could clear it. "I, uh, I guess we should talk about that." I turned my head to peer down the hallway before looking back at her. "Maybe tomorrow, though. I know Ben's asleep, but…"

"Oh, of course," Maka stuttered.

And regardless of being older, that teenage embarrassment was lighting up my face, mirroring her own. "So, tomorrow, after Ben goes home, we'll talk."

"Great."

Suddenly, my mind couldn't turn it off as if Maka's mention had finally opened the floodgate. It didn't help that she bit her lip for most of the rest of the evening, or as we lay together on the couch she still let her fingers smooth up and down my chest. Even in bed, she slipped back into her spot cemented against me. There was barely enough self-control in my body, and I had to keep dampening my thoughts. No matter what I did, sleep was difficult and thin at best.

* * *

Ben woke me up first, a few pokes to my face enough to rouse me. He gave me the quiet signal just as I was about to talk and I looked over at Maka. She was detached enough that I could slip away and her eyelids were still shut, dreams dancing behind the scenes. I did my best to ease her off of me, watching as she stayed dead to the world, and followed Ben as he motioned me out of the room.

I shut the door quietly behind us and he waited patiently until we were far enough away from the door. "I'm hungry," he peeped.

"Go in the kitchen. Don't touch anything. I'll be right there." I knew there was a chance that those directions weren't going to be followed, but the bathroom always called first thing in the morning and I wasn't about to do anything without getting this nasty, dry taste of poor sleep out of my mouth. I double-timed through my routine, skipping the shower for now or at least until I had Maka to guarantee Ben wasn't going to hurt himself or the apartment.

When I finally made it to the kitchen, Ben was patiently sitting at the island, his feet dangling off of the stool. "Ben, options for breakfast: cereal, oatmeal, or waffles. Thoughts?" As if there wasn't a clear winner in this offering.

"Waffles!" Ben shouted but clamped a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

"No need for sorry, kiddo. If Maka wakes up, she wakes up. I bet you as soon as you start to smell the coffee she'll come plodding along." To prove my point, I started arranging things for the coffee maker, put in all the necessary ingredients before flicking the switch and hearing it putter to life. I moved to the cabinet, getting out the waffle mix since I wasn't feeling particularly adventurous with a picky five-year-old in the house.

Don't ask me why, but I had gotten myself a waffle maker somewhere along the way, and there was not a day that went by that I regretted it, today included. I threw all the ingredients in the mix, adding some vanilla and cinnamon for extra flavor, and listened for the pop and hiss of the waffle maker. "Ben, juice or milk?"

"What kind of juice?"

"Regular old orange." I sprayed the hissing plates of the waffle maker before pouring the batter across them. I closed it and did a quick flip, seeing a little starting to ooze from the side. I always overfilled without fail, but the plate underneath would catch it.

"Milk, please."

I grabbed a glass before opening the fridge to get the milk, inspecting the possible fruit options in there before concentrating on the pour. Yet another perk of Maka being around was that there was always an abundance and variety of food in the house now, and she had left me with berries to choose from. "Blueberries or strawberries?" I put the milk back on the shelf but paused for his answer.

"Both."

"Good answer," I laughed before taking each container out and tossing them on the counter. After closing the fridge I moved to place his glass in front of him. "You sleep OK last night?"

"I missed Mama and Daddy," he admitted before taking a sip of his milk.

"That's OK, they'll be back early today." I went back to the counter, washing some of the berries before cutting them and arranging them on his plate. I couldn't help myself and still split the blueberries just in case. By the time all the arranging was done, I heard the pop of the waffle maker so I turned it back over and opened the lid. The smell was heavenly, the color a nice crisp light brown. "Syrup?"

"Yes, please." I sliced and diced the waffle, trying to follow the pattern of the squares before drizzling some syrup over top. I brought the plate for his inspection but without resistance, I got a resounding, "Thank you!" along with an immediate stab of his fork.

Before I could even consider whether or not I was ready for food or would just require coffee, Maka's head peeked in from the hallway. "Good morning."

Ben tried to reply through waffle filled mouth and I waved before displaying the batter to her. "Do you want a waffle?"

"Oh, yes, please! I'll be right back." She disappeared back into the hallway and I began the motions for a second waffle.

As I waited for it to cook, I took out two mugs, filling them with coffee and setting one at the seat next to Ben. "Don't touch that," I warned before turning my back to go back to cutting berries. I was pretty sure I didn't need to worry anyway, Ben far too busy with shoving waffle into his face.

I heard her come back in and felt her hand come to the small of my back, and I turned my head just in time to catch the lips that were meant for my cheek. "Hey," it was a playful complaint.

"Waffles cost more than a kiss on the cheek," I murmured. Damn it, did I want to _kiss her_ kiss her, not just a peck, but I turned my head back away, sure that I was feeling the pain of just about every parent in existence right now.

"Maka, come sit with me," Ben had cleared just enough waffle from his mouth to be understood. I heard them shuffle behind me and when I turned with Maka's breakfast I found Ben in her lap, sharing some of his as a preview. I put hers to the side of Ben's plate and moved the syrup next to it. I decided against my own for now, more interested in cradling my cup of coffee and watching the two of them together, right back to whispers.

"You're not going to eat?" Maka raised an eyebrow.

"I'm good for now." I wasn't even sure I could eat, the spotty sleep feeling like it left holes in my stomach. I should have known better than to let the option of the conversation idle.

She let a sigh drift over her lips as her eyes searched mine. "Then why don't you shower? I have Ben."

"Thanks." I let my fingers linger up her arm before I pushed myself to leave the room. I considered taking a cold shower, setting the tone for the day, but caved and let it be lukewarm. I did want her. I couldn't deny the way that her body occupied a good portion of my mind, and I had been waiting for… what? Her, I guess, since her body was still healing and not necessarily always up for the activity.

But I had to admit that I was still a little scared of myself, the old fear of fucking it all up again. _But that's why we're talking about it, right? Talking first and then…_ I sighed, turning down the heat of the water until I felt a chill linger down my spine. _And then I'm going to swallow her fucking whole._ I tried to concentrate on the frigid water, tuning out my body.

My time in the shower was short, not really wanting to dawdle in the arctic water. By the time I was out, I could hear the singing coming from the kitchen, an amused smile starting on my lips. I couldn't quite catch the tune, but the two voices were a little obscured by the running water and clinking of dishes. After I got dressed for the day I snuck down the hallway, peeking my head in first so as not to interrupt the scene.

Ben did see me, his seat now on the counter next to the sink, but that didn't dissipate his singing. It was some preschool or Kindergarten tune that I'm sure was somewhere in the recesses of my own mind, but I was too busy chuckling to join in. The best part was Maka scrubbing dishes while belting out the parts with Ben, not for a second giving into embarrassment. Ben was doing his best to dry, but I saw the possibility of losing a dish or two so I snuck the rest of the way into the kitchen, taking the towel and his job with it.

Maka's eyes caught me and her mouth clamped shut, a blush coming across her cheeks. "Don't stop on my account." I nudged her with my hip, finding her now suddenly much more interested in the dishes.

"Ben started it," she muttered, handing me a rinsed dish.

"Sounded like you were into it. What do you think, Ben?" I dried the dish and handed it to Ben, letting him have the difficult job of laying it on the counter.

"Why don't you eat your breakfast?" Maka drove the sentence between the two of us, muting me and Ben. Her chin nodded towards the waffle sitting on the island.

I tossed the towel on the counter, grabbing Ben from his seat. "Did you make that?"

"Maka did," Ben admitted.

"Think it's edible?" I plopped Ben to the ground, smiling in the face of Maka's glare that she threw my way. I led Ben back to the seats, forcing him to sit with me as I tried to get through a few bites. Not that Maka's cooking was bad, usually far from it, but my stomach was still hesitant.

Maka finished up what was left of the dishes and finally turned to look at me still pushing food around my plate. "I'm going to shower. You're OK?"

"Fine."

She snuck past me without a word or a touch, a little piece of me hating that, wanting to steal her back, but I went back to pretending I was eating. Ben helped a bit, still somehow ready for more bites of waffle. I was about halfway through when I heard the click of the door, soft sets of footsteps shuffling in the hall.

"We're here!" Marie called.

Ben instantly shot off my lap, _mama_ popping from his mouth at different volumes and intensities. "In the kitchen," I belted.

Marie was first in the room, Ben hot on her heels as Stein tried to hold him. Though he looked like Stein, Ben was a mama's boy after all. "He looks intact."

"Evening went by without a hitch," I smiled. "We even made waffles." Without really thinking I pushed my plate towards her and Marie took it, taking a tentative bite of what I had left.

"Next time Ben stays with Stein and I stay here," Marie laughed, taking another bite.

"You're always welcome." Marie tried to push the plate back to me but I refused. "How's kid two?"

Marie rolled her eyes. "You mean Ben's sister, Shelley, as he's already named her for us? Great, fine, especially since she hasn't given me any morning sickness yet." I made the mistake of laughing and she wagged the fork at me. "Don't you dare."

"I'm just laughing at Ben," I defended. "You know he said we're next."

Marie cleared her throat. "He absolutely did not." She looked back at her son, who was playing with her hair from his father's arms. "Did you?"

Ben shrugged, still completely convinced that it was the rest of the room that was crazy. "Soul loves Maka."

"I'm sorry," Marie groaned.

"Ben's predictions are fairly solid," Stein mentioned, that coy smile on his face.

"Stein," Marie snapped before turning back to me. "Don't listen to him. You two are just starting, take it slow, please."

I threw up my hands, feeling my eyes and my heart bug out. "It was just a joke, Marie."

"What's a joke?" Maka emerged, swirling her damp hair into a high bun.

"It's not a joke," Ben whined.

"Benjamin," Marie threatened back.

I cleared my throat, pulling her to my side with a gentle hand on her elbow. _Please, do not force me to say this or explain this. Ben, please listen to your mother._ "Just saying how Ben had a good time and it wasn't so tough."

Maka eyed me skeptically. "It was fine, yeah."

Marie was still locking eyes with her son, willing him quiet. "And I think it's time we take Ben home."

She blinked, "Alright…" Maka's eyes tried to meet mine but I was too busy avoiding them by going to Ben, taking him from Stein's arms for a hug. Maka snuck in, stealing him from my arms to get her own hug. Ben did cling to her, giving her a quality Ben hug rather than the compulsatory one and I could feel a fluttering in my chest, watching her with him.

It was thankfully only soft goodbyes from Ben, no reiteration of the conversation, and Marie and Stein were quick to keep it that way. By the time they all shuffled out, I almost felt a little shell-shocked, dazed by the rush of existence. It wasn't until Maka's hand touched my shoulder that I realized I'd been spaced out and staring at the door.

"Soul, are you OK?"

I laughed softly, rubbing a hand over my face. "I think I just need another cup of coffee." Our paths diverged, her moving towards the living room as I went back to the kitchen. I threw the last of the dishes in the sink before refilling my cup and moving to join her. When I entered the room she was sitting expectantly, legs pulled under her in the chair.

I moved to her side of the couch, close enough that I could reach for her if necessary, but focused on cradling my mug. We were silent for a few minutes, refusing to stare at each other. "Did Marie say anything about the baby?" Maka finally broke it, her hand coming to the arm of the chair, making me consider reaching.

"Ben's named her Shelley." I sipped my coffee, letting one free hand move to my hair to clear it from my forehead.

"Interesting," Maka laughed. Another pause, too long for either of us. "You didn't sleep well last night."

"No," it was tentative but truthful. "I had plenty to think about."

She watched her finger make an outline on the arm of the couch. "What were you thinking about?"

_You're being truthful, you're being open, you're being honest. That's what you promised her and yourself. _I could feel my face flush. "I want you." My hand snuck out and took hers but I couldn't look anywhere but my coffee. "I'm worried that it's on my mind a little too much. I don't want to make the same mistake again, just thinking of myself."

Her other hand clamped over mine. "You didn't-"

"I did," I tried to stop it but the floodgates just seemed to open, "I want to touch you this time. I want you to enjoy it more than I do. I want this to be the best you've ever had and I want you to just _know _by the end of it that I love you."

"You did touch me," she squeezed my hand. "And I did enjoy it."

"No," I groaned. "I didn't even… you didn't…"

"OK, no, I didn't," and to my surprise, there was a little laugh at the end of that. "Nobody's perfect the first time, Soul, and, well, a lot of that gets forgotten in the rush. You're not the only one to ever do that."

"But-"

"No buts." Her voice was firm as her fingers slipped away from mine. She got out of the chair and moved beside me on the couch, her hands now slipping around my neck, her fingers playing delicately in my hair. "It doesn't matter if the next time's a rush, too. If you just need it, then we can do it that way. Whatever way it happens, I already know you love me."

"I shouldn't…" I murmured.

"I'm asking you, Soul. I'm begging you, just this once, to be selfish." I couldn't offer any argument because her lips didn't give me the room, covering mine with none of the delicateness of the past few weeks. Without coaxing, Maka moved to straddle me on the couch, one hand sunk in my hair while the other arm wrapped lazily around my shoulder.

I don't know what was more thrilling, running my hands up her thighs until they disappeared under her skirt or the sound that came from her throat as soon as they did. I wanted nothing more than to hear that again, my hands caressing the skin until I met the line of her panties, running my fingers along the edge. She pulled away from my mouth but I wasn't ready to let her go, my lips planting along her jaw to her neck, filled with the want for her skin.

"Soul," she murmured, her hand weakly patting at my shoulder as if that would stop this, slow it down. "The bedroom."

I clasped my hands underneath her and even with my legs objecting, I lifted us both to my feet. It helped that she was still recovering, but a small part of my mind was noting I might have to actually start training again if I expected this continued level of romanticism. A shrill cry that turned into a laugh rang from her mouth, a gorgeous sound that made any strain from this lift worth it. I didn't waste time, carrying her to the bedroom as ordered. The hardest part was letting her go, negotiating a gentle drop on the bed without toppling both of us. She still bounced harder to the bed than I liked, but all I got in return was another laugh, more delight on her face as she beckoned me to join her.

My mind only wandered back to the past at that moment, the divine smile on her face transporting me back to the first time I felt that ache for her, when, as a teenage boy, I found out her being in bed, or really in my life meant more to me than anything else in the world. There was a fleeting _but_ since now she was a woman, I was grown and there were hurts and memories enough to fill what felt like a lifetime. The final _but _was that none of that changed anything. She always was all I ever wanted.

None of those thoughts slowed down the need, and I found myself slipping out of my clothes before even getting into the bed with her. Without a word, she did the same, instantly reaching out her hands for me when she was done and easing me into the bed as soon as I was ready to move. Maka tried to pull me right to her, her legs ready to wrap around me as I moved to the middle of them.

And I know she asked me to be needy, be selfish, but maybe this was selfish in its own way. I only moved so far, my head turning to place a tender kiss at her knee and then another as I trailed down her tight. "Soul," her voice was surprise washed over by pleasure as I continued the line of kisses.

This was the area of daydreams and as I gently rolled my tongue down her opening there was absolutely no guarantee that I knew what I was doing, but that little taste and the way she quickly expelled the air from her lips when my tongue met skin was enough to give me at least the confidence to try. I split her with a gentle lap of my tongue and sucked lightly as I reached her clit before giving that the attention of my tongue. Her fingers ceased into the sheets as a breathy gasp left her throat.

"That," she moaned as I sucked again, my tongue massaging at a speed I was sure I could keep up with as long as I had those sounds to feed me. I continued that pattern, listening for all of her pleas, the gasps and starts, before snaking my hand down her leg. I let up for only a moment, a frustrated sigh instantly coming from her lips only to be replaced with a groan as I slid my fingers into her, her hips coming forward to rock against them. "Soul…"

You think your name is so mundane until you hear it from the lips of the person you love, especially when they're in the throes of passion. I almost demanded she say it again but my mouth obviously had other business and I got to work matching the stroke of my fingers to that of my tongue. I received the reward of another call of my name, drowned out by a low breathless moan as her legs tensed beside my head. I waited, watching the ecstasy wash over her face, her green eyes glowing as she finally focused back on me.

When her fingers finally released the sheets they moved to me, grasping at my face, silently demanding I come to her. I ran a hand over my mouth just before she crushed her lips to mine, not seeming to notice or care about any residue. One hand came to my hair, making sure my lips stayed planted on hers, while the other tenderly wrapped around my shaft, easing my tip along her opening.

I groaned, forcing our lips apart for a second. "Maka, a condom."

She breathed across my lips, repeating the motion of me against her. "I'm…" she sighed again, "I'm on birth control."

One half of my mind had a million questions, all requiring answers, but as she rubbed my tip against her lips again I was losing the battle. Because we _had _used one the first time. I was an idiot, but not that much of an idiot. "What about…?"

"I've only ever been with you. And you promise…?"

"Only you, Maka," I pressed my forehead to hers. Her legs wrapped around me, her hand drifting up my chest as I eased into her, feeling that delicious tension wrap around me. I pressed as far as I could go, my hips almost grinding against hers as I brought our mouths back together, savoring the moment with my tongue against hers.

I was slowing it down, holding onto to every feeling as long as I could, reducing it to every piece of bliss. Maka didn't seem to mind, those soft sighs and brushes of her lips against mine continuing with each rocking motion of my hips. One of my hands gripped at her side, fingertips dipping into flesh to keep her close, to keep her stable as I couldn't stay at this pace anymore, the need finally catching up with me. I never wanted this to be over but my body was begging, edging closer as my motion became almost frantic.

It was as if I couldn't feel anything but the crashing euphoria of my climax, washing away any other thought or lingering feeling. I could only offer her a croaked groan, my lips just hovering against hers. After a few breaths, my body still pressed tightly against hers, I could finally come back to myself. "I love you," and I repeated it at least four times, each one becoming more of a strained whisper.

"I know, Soul, I know." Maka started soothing me with her hands, with her soul, reaching and smoothing every inch of me. "I love you."

Letting go, detaching from all of this, was the last thing I wanted to do, but it was inevitable. After a few more whispers and reassurances, I slipped to her side, letting her out of the bed. Her walk out of the room to the bathroom was almost comical, and I probably would have laughed if I still wasn't completely overwhelmed. I waited for her as I listened to the water run, as I told myself again and again that she was coming back, that I'd wake up to her face in the morning.

Maka appeared in the doorway, my eyes only partially tearing up, and came back to the bed, draping a hand towel over me. I cleaned myself, feeling her eyes focused on my face, her breath on my neck as he leaned in to kiss it. "This was perfect, Soul."

My heart was singing at the statement and I was sure she could feel it. Her hand flexed on my chest as I finally turned my attention to her to see a beaming smile. "You feel OK?" I ditched the towel and turned to her in the bed, gliding a hand along her hip.

"Better than that," she cooed. "How did you…?"

I laughed, shaking my head, "No idea. It worked though?"

"Definitely," she murmured back before brushing her lips against mine. "You're full of surprises."

My hand glided up over her skin, finally resting on her cheek, my thumb rubbing a soft line over her cheekbone. "I think that might be the last of them. Boring from here on out."

"I can live with that." Maka's eyes shone as she bit her lip playfully. "I could deal with that for the rest of my life."

I let those words wash over me, feeling my belief in the truth of it all with each beat of my heart. I was never some handsome prince, not built to be perfect and heroic on my own. She was never some damsel in distress, a princess that needed to be saved from some big evil, just mostly saved from herself, from her own mind. Regardless, this was the fairytale ending I was looking for. I knew this wasn't the end of difficulties since life has a way of throwing them at you no matter what, but we were strong together, solid and ready for them now. If there was such a thing as happily ever after, this was it.

* * *

OK, dudes, that's it. I actually ended a fic. Ridiculous. Thank you for all the support and comments. Every last bit is appreciated.


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